


Tell Me That You Feel It Too

by aurora_nuova



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Author has no beta we die like men, F/M, Founders Era, M/M, Madara can be a potty mouth, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Other Additional Tags May Be Added, Rating May Change, Senju Tobirama Needs a Hug, Sick Tobirama needs a caretaker, Slow Burn, Tobirama has the flu at the start of the story, Uchiha Izuna Lives, Warring States Period (Naruto), idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 54,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21527803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurora_nuova/pseuds/aurora_nuova
Summary: He was going to wordlessly hand the paper to the white haired man to sign and then hurriedly leave before one of them could say or do anything to irk the other’s temper.Though as soon as Madara looked up from the yet unsigned form in his hand and saw the Senju, his hand paused mid-movement.“You're sick.”Tobirama’s flushed face looked strained and had a light sheen of sweat. He was wrapped in an oversized, worn haori that he likely had snatched from Hashirama when the latter had been distracted.At least judging by the size and unflattering colour choice. Vomit green and pale yellow.Really?(Or: Overworked Tobirama is sick and unfortunately Madara gets roped into taking care of him by Izuna. Only to then realize that he may haveslightlymisjudged the younger Senju.)
Relationships: Senju Hashirama & Uchiha Madara, Senju Hashirama/Uzumaki Mito, Senju Tobirama & Uchiha Izuna, Senju Tobirama & Uchiha Kagami, Senju Tobirama & Uzumaki Mito, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara, Uchiha Izuna & Uchiha Madara
Comments: 286
Kudos: 1239





	1. Hide it away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to try my hand at this pairing after reading my way through all the amazing works by all the authors! :>  
> I am so thankful to everyone who blessed us with their stories, so I got motivated to give it a shot as well.  
> Ah, in fact this is especially exciting to me because this is my first story ever.  
> Hopefully you’ll be able to enjoy it!

  


* * *

#### Chapter 1: Hide it away 

* * *

  


His brush hurriedly slid over the last document as Madara finally finished his urgent  
to-do pile. 

What an unexpected relief. He rolled his tense shoulders.

Since the creation of Konoha there usually was no end to the urgent paperwork with many days filled with necessary overtime. But today he was able to catch up on it before afternoon.  
And all thanks to the Shimura clan’s representatives suddenly cancelling on their appointment with him this morning due to some supposed health problems he couldn’t care less about. 

Maybe they were scared and had hoped they got appointed a different Konoha representative than him? He huffed bemused.

Honestly though, how Hashirama thought that he was a good choice to show them around the new village they were considering to join, he didn’t even waste any energy to try to understand. 

It wasn’t as if it was a well kept secret that most people outside of his own clan even in Konoha feared him and appeasing people who irritated him wasn’t one of his strong suits. Besides, it was glaringly obvious that it wasn’t very hard to anger him with his short and widely known temper either. He got annoyed fast, real fast.

Hence Izuna’s almost regular meetings with their koi pond back at their old clan compound. Don’t get him wrong, he loved his little brother dearly and would do anything to protect him but he in return loved to push his buttons like younger siblings tended to do and it wasn’t as if he couldn’t swim, was it?

He looked at the finished document in front of him, already starting to get irritated and sighed. Now came the annoying part. 

Since this was a project he was forced into joining forces with Tobirama, the other had to take a look at it and sign as well. That wasn’t the hard part, though.  
Getting it done without starting a fight that would take precious time off of his soon free afternoon? That was the tricky part because they basically started fights over nothing all the time. Even when no words left their lips, just seeing each other in the halls prompted heated glaring. Or ice cold looks in the albino’s case.

Surprisingly it was Izuna who had recently started trying to convince him time and time again that the younger Senju wasn’t actually too bad.  
Very misunderstood, _nice even_. Right. 

Surprisingly though the two heirs recently indeed became friendly with each other if his brother was to be believed. 

And wasn’t that bizarre? His little brother who used to vehemently despise the bare notion of peace with the Senju, just recently warmed up to his rival who almost killed him in the last battle of the war. 

Izuna had mentioned something about actually spending time with the frosted bastard and getting to know him as his reasoning when he questioned him.  
But honestly? What was there even to know about him other than that he had a stony face and irritating personality. 

He picked up the paper and took it to Tobirama’s office. He didn’t have to knock for his presence to be known because the albino was a creepily good sensor and didn’t even have to try, to be able to know what chakra signature belonged to whom as long as he had chakra left. And the Uchiha clan head’s chakra was enormous and hard to miss to begin with.

But not knocking usually led to them fighting because the man hated when people unsolicitedly imposed on his personal space and for once today’s goal wasn’t to rile him up. So he braced himself, knocked and entered when he heard a muffled reply. 

He was going to wordlessly hand the paper to the white haired man to sign and then hurriedly leave before one of them could say or do anything to irk the other’s temper.

Though as soon as Madara looked up from the yet unsigned form in his hand and saw the Senju, his hand paused mid-movement.

“You're sick.” 

Tobirama’s flushed face looked strained and had a light sheen of sweat. He was wrapped in an oversized, worn haori that he likely had snatched from Hashirama when the latter had been distracted.  
At least judging by the size and unflattering colour choice. Vomit green and pale yellow. _Really?_

Only his best friend could willingly choose something that atrocious.  
And only the younger Senju would choose to secretly wear his older sibling’s badly worn and tasteless garments even though they horribly clashed with his exotic colouring. 

Yes, certainly exotic colouring. Grey-white hair was already considered unusual for people his age outside of the newly joined Hatake clan but red eyes? That was indeed extraordinary and intriguing. Especially to the Uchiha clan.

Not for the first time, he involuntarily thought that the demon indeed checked off more than a few of his and the Uchiha clan’s general preferences. Look wise at least.  
Pale skin? Check. Red eyes? Also check. Slim but strong build? Triple check.  
He immediately halted his treacherous thoughts, though, and frowned. 

What the hell, not this again. 

The Senju seemed to ignore him, so the Uchiha abruptly opened his mouth to utilize the awful choice of clothing by throwing a habitual insult the icicle’s way to distract himself from his own unwelcome thoughts. But he thought better at the last moment and glared more heatedly instead.

No need to start a useless argument and prolong this when he was this close to his first blessedly free afternoon in weeks.  
Might as well try to leave the insults and arguing for another day. He wasn’t going to waste any of that precious time off when he could already taste the freedom. 

Tobirama didn’t seem in the mood for their usual squabbling either, it seemed. Normally he would’ve already snapped at him and they would’ve then spiralled into their usual heated bickering by now. 

When the blasted Senju finally deigned to acknowledge his presence by lifting his gaze, Madara noticed the dark circles under his eyes that accentuated the exhausted look in his usually chilly gaze and couldn’t help but to slightly grimace. 

He looked awful. Did the guy even know what sleep was? He doubted it.

”So?” 

The younger man glanced at him for the whole of two seconds before he lowered his gaze back to his work, unimpressed. Or was it annoyed? He couldn't even tell with that blasted, impassive face of the Senju Ghost. But he could already feel his temper start to flare at that dratted attitude he so despised. That was a justified statement, how dare he brush him off?

”So go home!” Madara huffed agitated. Wasn’t that obvious enough? 

”I have work to do,” Tobirama sniffed, distracted by the document in front of him.

Fine. Whatever. 

He only tried to intervene so Hashirama wouldn’t have any reason to bemoan his lack of attempts to get along with his little brother again when he found out about this.  
He’d rather avoid the depressive bouts of crying if he could help it, thank you.  
So he tried to treat the snowflake like an actual person this once instead of the demon he was. It didn’t work. Tough luck. 

At that the Clan Head snippily stepped forward to place the forgotten form in his hand on top of the document the other was currently reading to alleviate the need to strangle the snowy bastard. Which gained him an angered growl that quickly turned into a rather painful cough by the sound of it.

He attempted to ignore the shred of compassion that tried to surface at the pitiful picture the other made by distracting himself and glanced at the many stacks of documents on the desk. Was he that badly behind on his work?

Wait, he recognized those doodles and that rounded but messy penmanship on top of one of the stacks.  
He was pretty sure he even could identify the content of the stack because it looked like it held the paperwork for the Inuzuka clan’s ridiculous demands they wanted fulfilled before they would join Konoha. His tree stump of a friend had been whining to him about it over dinner the day before.

“Aren’t those the documents Hashirama was supposed to finish yesterday?” he pointed at the surprisingly messy stack.

Hashirama usually was a harmless topic. Might as well try to prevent both of them from letting this thing turn into a full blown fight that would end in destroyed furniture and an annoying screaming match. Well, probably with added one sided coughing fits that would drag things out even further because the Senju always tried to have the last word which infuriated him to no end. 

No. He just had to remind himself of the free afternoon and bite his tongue a little longer. 

Though his fists were clenching so hard already, his fingernails left crescent shapes on the inside of the palms of his hands. Usually just one wrong look from the bastard was enough for Madara’s temper to explode. But he was so close to his goal. He just needed to take deep, calming breaths. 

There. Slightly better. His fists loosened.

At last the albino stopped hacking up his lungs and procured a ceramic cup of tea from somewhere among the stacks of paperwork to soothe his throat while taking Madara’s proffered form to set it beside the document he was working on before the Uchiha interrupted him. At which the older man’s eye twitched and he had to take another deep breath to not explode in a fit of pent up rage. Was he brushing him off again?

Tobirama shortly blinked at the documents that supposedly were Hashirama’s and then his tired, considering look shifted to him. He didn’t look him in the eyes though. 

He never did. 

And it honestly annoyed him that the Senju didn’t. It had been over a year since the founding of Konoha. Even longer since their two clans agreed to sign the peace treaty and work alongside each other. The demon should’ve figured out a long time ago that he wouldn’t cast a genjutsu on him because Hashirama wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. Neither would his scary wife. So why did he still persistently avoid his eyes? Izuna was deemed safe enough to make eye contact with by the snowflake quite some time ago. 

The younger man nodded hesitantly before surprisingly a marginally pained frown marred his usually impassive face.

“Indeed. Alas he made quite a few mistakes when his attention span started to wane,” he huffed out as he blindly attempted to dip his brush in the ink to finish his document but noticed the lack thereof and sighed.

Madara hummed at that. His best friend was good at winning over other clans to consider joining their new, steadily growing village but dreadful at diplomacy and paperwork. Truly dreadful. Whenever he saw him and the frosty bastard in front of him together, the latter was usually viciously nagging Hashirama to stop giving in into every new clan’s every wish or to finally start working and stop neglecting the all too important paperwork.  
But apparently the older Senju’s all too famous puppy eyes even worked on his younger brother despite his icy demeanour because he knew for a fact that Hashirama was out dining with the redheaded Uzumaki princess in one of the newly opened restaurants right now while the albino sat here and did the Hokage’s paperwork. 

Not his problem though.

“Doesn’t seem like the first time you’re correcting his paperwork, either. Do you have so little work as to have the luxury of being bored enough to do so while the rest of us actually work hard to make this village work, or what?” snippily slipped out of Madara’s mouth before he could stop himself. 

He immediately grimaced at his lack of self control. 

At this point it was almost second nature to throw any insults he could think of at the other man. Didn’t matter if they were true or not. Anything to rile the other up to get a kick out of him would do.  
That jab definitely just doomed his free afternoon, though, and he was so close, too.

To his utter surprise the Senju didn’t rise to his bait, though. Instead he sighed exhausted and abruptly raised to probably get more ink but suddenly buckled under his own weight. The Clan Head reflexively leaned over the desk to support Tobirama.

“What the hell, Senj-“

“I’m fine,” the albino groaned, leaning heavily on him.

“Right. And you’re obviously leaning on me because you were so eager to snuggle up to me, you couldn’t wait any more, huh?” he huffed waspishly.

Astonishingly the younger man’s already flushed face reddened even more.  
What. Senju Tobirama blushing? Was that even in the realm of reality? Apparently. Huh, interesting. But more important things first.

He busied himself with looking around the room to spot where he could make the Senju lay down but ended up without any real options. The office only sported the average looking chair the sick man himself had been sitting in just until now and one very uncomfortable looking chair made out of wood for anyone who had business with the white haired man. Curious. He himself and Hashirama had benches in their offices in case Izuna or Mito came to visit them respectively to spend breaks together or eat lunch when they decided to eat in.

He sighed annoyed. 

“You really just should go home, Senju.”

The albino mumbled something but it was inaudible to the Uchiha’s ears.

Madara furrowed his brows.

“What?”

“What difference does it make?” he huffed and tried to stand on his own but staggered.

“What do you mean ‘what difference’? It’s a huge difference whether you rest at home and get taken care of or work while sick,” the Uchiha groused confused at him.

Tobirama flinched slightly at the volume. He seemed weirdly hesitant at first but still decided to answer after a moment.

“I live alone and still need to get that paperwork done and handed in today,” he hoarsely stated.

Right, Hashirama lived with Mito. That reminded him, he didn’t even know where or how the snowflake actually lived.

“What about that cruel looking cousin of yours?”

“Touka is on a mission. And Anija and Mito have meetings and other obligations to fulfill. It’s fine,” he ground out mulishly.

Madara sighed. That dratted shred of sympathy made a vengeful comeback at that. So with Izuna also busy, it looked like he was the only other person Tobirama even talked to. Albeit ‘talked to’ being a gross overstatement if one didn’t count their screaming.

Still, he was pretty sure the man didn’t have any friends or even other acquaintances whom he could ask for help. Seeing as the albino didn’t really seem to have any kind of social life. As far as he knew from Hashirama’s and Izuna’s constant complaining that he normally tried to block out, all the albino ever did was work or hole himself up in that laboratory of his. And who knew what kind of weird or cruel experiments he did in there. He himself didn’t know because he never bothered to actually care to listen to his brother’s and best friend’s ramblings about the pale man. 

So what should he do? Leave the sick man to his own devices and risk a depressed Hashirama with harsh glares from Mito or try helping him. He grimaced. He was so happy when that meeting got canceled. But still.

Madara didn’t feel like he owed it to the pale Senju, okay? He didn’t. Well, alright. Maybe that was a partial lie. Maybe it didn’t even hurt to admit—even if only to himself—that he had been rather relieved when he came back to an empty to-do file holder after a few days of absence when a vicious bug bested him a few weeks ago.  
And apparently said file holder’s content got emptied by Tobirama if his younger brother was to be believed. He sort of owed him, didn’t he?

Madara sighed annoyed with himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeing as this is my first written story ever, I would be incredibly thankful and happy about any feedback :>!
> 
> Oh and in case you want to privately hit me up about any of my works or MadaTobi :>, please feel free to do so on [Tumblr](https://aurora-nuova.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/aurora_nuova)


	2. Stay with me

* * *

#### Chapter 2: Stay with me 

* * *

  


He begrudgingly helped the Senju back into the chair and took a step back.

Promptly Tobirama clutched his heavy looking head in his hands when his elbows hit the tabletop. The ill man looked like he might even topple back out of the chair like a drunk person. 

The clan head scowled in a little episode of out of place sympathy. 

Normally the snowy asshole didn’t even so much as flinch when he felt unwell or got hurt. Unlike a normal person would and should. He knew this first hand because he had the misfortune of going on one or two missions with him in the past. 

Even Madara flinched or hissed when he got hurt. So the poor bastard must have been feeling real-

Wait, was that a low whine he just heard? He blinked.

Nah, impossible. He was sure he imagined it but still, he took another cursory look at him.

And to his surprise the white haired man was leaning bonelessly on his arms which was weird. Seeing as one of the things that bothered the Uchiha on a daily basis was that the demon normally looked like he had a metal pole stuck up his ass twenty-four seven.

So that was an unusual sight, indeed. It almost made him seem human. 

He sighed again.

Madara didn’t like the Senju heir but he was no monster and had some scrap of honour left somewhere in him. He was pretty sure that was the only reason, though, why he hadn’t abandoned the guy and gone home to his well earned free afternoon yet. 

Well, he had made up his mind about what he was going to do, hadn’t he? No need to stall any further.

“Finish that tea. What documents need to be done today?” he groused loudly and Tobirama visibly flinched. 

Okay, maybe he shouldn’t be so loud when the other was in such obvious pain. He wasn’t a monster. He just forgot. Honest.

When the younger man finally unclenched his hands from his face and pointed to a stack of papers, the Uchiha was seriously surprised.  
Honestly, he was expecting much more resistance. Usually he was as stubborn as a mule, so unbending in his ways that he was horribly aggravating to deal with. It seemed that the apparent bout of illness and sleep deprivation or whatever the ice prince was suffering from made him mild and agreeable for once. Better not look a gift horse in the mouth, though, he guessed.

The older man hummed to himself as his eyes landed on the documents. That stack was pretty big. Seriously big. He suppressed a suffering groan while the Senju obediently emptied his tea and put the emptied cup back somewhere among the stacks of paper.

His precious free afternoon was damned to hell, wasn’t it? Well, he better start soon and get this over with then. No need to waste more time. 

He grabbed the unsigned form he previously brought and the document the man had been working on until now, put both on top of the pile and carefully lifted all of it off the desk while red eyes sluggishly followed his hands.

“Alright, we’re going to my office where you’re going to lie down on my bench to take a nap, no buts.” 

Tobirama had the gall to look perplexed. 

“What?” he asked exasperated in return.

“There’s no need to-“ the albino mumbled roughly but started coughing again.

Madara shifted his weight from one leg to the other to better balance the stack of papers in his arms. Kami forbid if all of that paperwork slipped from his grasp. He lifted his gaze back to the younger man.

“You can’t seriously think that you’re going to finish all of this on time in your state?” he asked dryly, blowing the errant strands of hair from his fringe that tickled his nose out of his face.

As if the albino’s behaviour hadn’t been downright weird enough until now, he shifted uncomfortably and a guilty expression flitted over his face one moment but was gone the next. 

“If I don’t take any breaks, it should be in the realm of the possible to do,” he muttered hoarsely with a downcast but stubborn look.

Was the guy serious? No, was he crazy? Madara scowled at him, uncomprehending.

He knew that Hashirama’s brother was a huge workaholic and tended to lose himself in work but this? While sick? Seriously? Madara was in good health and would need to diligently power through the documents to finish before nightfall.

Where was his friend when he should be beating some sense into his younger sibling?

Right, out eating with Mito while said younger sibling was doing his older brother’s work, he suddenly remembered.

He couldn’t even begin to imagine a similar scenario with himself and Izuna instead of Hashirama and Tobirama. Just the thought was so outlandish, he scowled harder. 

Alright, maybe he did indeed overdo it sometimes…maybe even most of the time. Seeing how he started to worry when his little brother so much as sniffed. But who could blame him when he nearly lost him to an almost fatal wound at the end of the war? 

If the snowflake hadn’t redirected his hit and if Hashirama hadn’t suggested to heal him, he would’ve probably died on that same battlefield. Or miserably suffered a slow and painful death at home later on. A shiver ran down his spine. He would’ve been truly lost without his precious younger brother.

Speaking of brothers.

The Uchiha knew his best friend. He was a worry wart, too. Of course he would never admit to the existence of that common trait out loud. But that was beside the point. 

Madara had been sent home by Hashirama himself when he fell ill all those weeks ago. So how come the younger Senju was sick but still working? And doing his older brother’s work to boot.

Maybe the tree stump hadn’t seen his sickly sibling yet? Yeah, that probably had to be it.

One more reason why he should make Tobirama rest though. So their esteemed Hokage wouldn’t start moping and theatrically cry on him because he hadn’t tried to stop his ‘little, precious brother’. He scoffed.

“Come on, Senju. I don’t have all day, move it,” he said a little sharply, albeit more out of habit than annoyance.

When the Senju obliged after a moment of indecision and slowly straightened in his seat to stand, the Clan Head turned on his heel and started walking back to his office without waiting for the younger man. 

Once he arrived, he carefully placed the stack of documents on his desk and strolled behind it but hesitated. Where was the guy? He listened carefully but didn’t hear any steps outside of his office.

Frowning, he spread out his senses and felt the usually calm and cool but faint chakra somewhere near or in the asshole’s office. He wasn’t sure which. But that didn’t matter.

The Uchiha pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course it would’ve gone too smoothly if the menace had followed him without a fight. He braced himself and exited his office only to startle.

Their offices were connected by one single, straight corridor which made it possible for him to see the younger man at the door to the other’s office.

When Tobirama spotted him, he immediately let go of the wall he was leaning on and tried to straighten but swayed a bit instead.

Oh. He was an idiot, wasn’t he? Of course the unwell snowflake who almost had smashed his face into his own desk not five minutes ago when he had tried to stand, wouldn’t be well enough to just casually follow him. 

The Uchiha considered asking the other if he should carry him but decided against it as he knew his help would be immediately rejected.  
And riling him up with the suggestion of a bridal carry wouldn’t be half as funny as it usually would be.  
So he decided to just saunter over and wordlessly support the frosty asshole to accelerate his pace. 

The other stiffened the instant he touched him but Madara ignored it and continued on to his office. 

He could feel the heat radiating off the sick man even through the multiple layers of clothing and wondered if checking him for a fever would be received badly. He figured it would. Better not take any risks.

Once back in the room, he steered his burden onto the bench and returned to his desk, letting himself fall down into his padded chair. 

The older man started working but got distracted after only a handful of minutes when he began hearing a faint sound. A different sound than the occasional wheezing of the albino’s lungs. 

He looked over to his unwanted guest and promptly started feeling guilty. The idiot was asleep on his side and facing him, curled into himself on the wooden bench, Hashirama’s haori tightly wrapped around him. Pitifully shivering. 

Why hadn’t he asked for a blanket or something if he was that cold? Izuna would’ve already started whining and complaining to catch his attention. 

Well, Tobirama wasn’t Izuna, so that shouldn’t have been too surprising, he figured. Still, he thought that the younger man would’ve at least complained or thrown an insult his way. 

So Madara contemplated the contents of his cabinets.  
He had two pillows for when Hashirama or Izuna visited, no problem there but for the first time he realized that he only had one blanket.

Izuna’s blanket. 

For when his favourite brat of a brother came over. He wouldn’t give the bastard his little brother’s blanket, no no no. He specifically bought it so his younger sibling would stay warm in winter when he spent his breaks here. So he wouldn’t get sick, no he wouldn’t under any circum-

A pitiful sniffle and sleepy whine interrupted him. 

Oh for kami’s sake.

He incredulously stared at the Senju. He wasn’t even awake which meant that he wasn’t even doing it on purpose. Yet he could’ve sworn that the bastard could read thoughts and was exclusively doing this to rile him up. 

However in direct contrast to his words he was already in the motion of getting a pillow and the blanket out before he even realized.

If his sibling threw a hissy fit that he defiled his precious blanky by giving it to Tobirama like a five year old, he would buy him a new one to shut him up. He surely would get over it if he took offence as soon as he bought him an even better blanket.

Alright, now one important question presented itself to him:

How in the world was he supposed to place the items in his arms without getting attacked by a startled shinobi of Tobirama’s caliber?  
The Senju heir’s inhumanly sharp reflexes were well known even outside Konoha. Only stupid imbeciles thought it a good idea to try to sneak up on him.

Still, with carefully measured steps, he approached the sleeping Senju like a wild animal and hesitantly poked him with one corner of the decorative pillow, slightly leaning back.  
He bemusedly realized somewhere in the back of his mind that this would be the perfect opportunity to compare himself to an idiot, poking a tiger with a stick or however that stupid saying went.

He braced himself but Tobirama didn’t even so much as stir and his quiet, wheezing breathing continued undisturbed. 

“Hey, Senju!”, he groused out, confused, poking him a second time for good measure.

Nothing.

Yeah, sleep deprivation must have been definitely on the list of symptoms. Otherwise he would’ve already had to dodge a fist or kunai, even with how sick the younger man seemed to be.

He sighed reluctantly as he carefully laid the blanket on top of the sleeping body and then tried to slowly wiggle the pillow under the other’s head. 

This wasn’t working. The pillow maybe could’ve been stiff enough if the sick man had a lick of body tension in him right now but instead he was lying there bonelessly.

He hummed considering.

Then he lowered himself into a squat beside the bench and reached his hand out to slide it under the other’s head gradually instead. 

The apprehension he felt annoyed him. Why was he doing this again? Normally he wouldn’t even bother. 

Wait, why was the Senju so trusting as to sleep here and let him do this in the first place? Was he out of his damn mind?  
It would be laughingly easy to just snap that slender neck, just like he often dreamed of when they got into their faces, arguing and yelling at each other. 

But no, here he was tucking him in like he would Kagami instead.

What was wrong with him? He was definitely getting too soft. Must be Hashirama’s stubborn influence, yes definitely. Maybe it was the peace? Or both.

When he lifted the other’s head and put the pillow beneath it slowly, a small part of his brain noted how wet his hair was and how hot his head felt. Right. The fever.

The clan head figured that now would be as good a time as ever to check the other’s temperature even though that terribly flushed face was speaking for itself already.

He hissed. That forehead could be used to fry himself an egg for lunch. 

After a moment of deliberation he withdrew his hand, leaned back on his hunches and glanced at his desk where some of the unopened, Uchiha Clan made medicine was still sitting in one of the drawers. 

Izuna had brought him some just in case he relapsed but he hadn’t needed it.

He wasn’t a medic-nin but the symptoms looked pretty similar to what he had been suffering from, albeit probably even worse. Surely it would be alright if he gave the younger man some of his stashed medicine, right? They were roughly the same height so the same dose he himself got prescribed with should be fine. 

Decision made, he quietly rose to his feet and went to measure some of it into one of his clean cups. That should be enough. 

He nodded to himself and sauntered back over to the Senju to resume his squat.

Only to realize with a start that he probably would have to manhandle the other to get the liquid into him without choking. Well, he brought this upon himself. 

Maybe if he closed his eyes and tried hard enough, he could make himself believe that he was feeding Hikaku or someone else medicine instead. 

Sighing, he curled his arm under the sick man’s limp upper back and pulled him into himself so he was leaning on him, with his head resting on one of his broader shoulders.

“Oi, I’m giving you medicine, don’t even dare to head butt me or you’ll regret it, do you understand me?” he huffed.

Of course he knew that the other couldn’t hear him. But he wanted to make sure that he rightly could insist upon that he indirectly had asked him without having to lie, should he be questioned afterwards when this inevitably spiralled into a disaster.

Furthermore, he had noticed in the past that an ill Izuna was more cooperative, even unconscious, when he talked to him. So why not try his luck here as well? 

Finally, he aligned the cup with Tobirama’s mouth and slowly trickled some of the medicine past his lax lips. Blessedly his swallowing reflex did the rest. This was working way better than he had hoped. Good that was all of it.

Ha! Watch this. He didn’t even spill any. 

Satisfied he carefully made the albino lie back on the bench and retreated to his desk to continue the other’s work in relative peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this isn’t too boring and that you maybe even enjoyed this?
> 
> Also: This story is exceedingly getting out of hand.
> 
> It was supposed to be a one shot, then I thought it would be a two or three chapter thing at the most but somehow I didn’t even get to one fifth of my very rough ‘chapter 2 outline’.
> 
> -
> 
> Oh and in case you want to privately hit me up about any of my works or MadaTobi :>, please feel free to do so on [Tumblr](https://aurora-nuova.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/aurora_nuova)


	3. Why I call you my only friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeing your kudos and reading all your comments makes me so happy and motivates me so much to continue this, so thanks, all of you!
> 
> It’s honestly so much fun to read your guesses and your opinions about the individual chapters and how you see my story :>

* * *

#### Chapter 3: Why I call you my only friend 

* * *

  


Izuna was in such a hurry to enter his friend’s office to get the meeting notes that were supposed to wait for him on the other’s desk like always, that he almost slammed face first into the surprisingly locked door.

Wait. What?

He slowly blinked and tried to open the door again. Still locked.

Hesitantly the Uchiha heir took a step back, looked around the corridor and stilled. This definitely was Tobirama’s office. So what the hell was going on? 

He stared at the door, perplexed.

This door hadn’t been locked during, no, _not even long past working hours_ since it had been allotted to the younger Senju unless said man was on a mission. Which he knew the white haired man wasn’t for sure because they had agreed on meeting up in the evening and Tobirama hadn’t cancelled their plans. However the albino would rather break a bone than a promise.

Huh.

No possible impromptu emergency mission either since he just passed by the Hokage and his wife casually eating out, in high spirits, too, on his way over.

The silly tree guy might’ve been able to act oblivious and carefree when his last sibling was out on a dangerous mission but Izuna knew that Mito-hime wouldn’t be able not to worry about her favourite brother-in-law. Sure, she was good at keeping a calm façade but she wouldn’t be so merry if Tobi had been in any danger. 

The lab was out of question as well. Because two days ago the albino had poutingly mentioned to him that said Uzumaki princess had sealed it with brand new fūinjutsu from Uzushio after his last accident three days ago, in order to give his bruised side time to heal because she knew that he would try to go back to tinker on his new version of some kind of exploding tag otherwise. 

He grimaced.

So, to repeat himself, _what the hell?_

In spite of himself Izuna slowly felt dread settle in his stomach. 

Not because of his very important and missing notes for the meeting that was starting in less than an hour but because something must’ve happened. This was not normal behaviour for his workaholic friend.

Ditching work was Hashirama’s field of expertise, not Tobirama’s.

This was highly worrisome. So what to do?

He hummed, increasingly concerned.

Maybe his older brother hadn’t yet left his office for his early end of work today and knew something. 

Oh! Or he just could ask him to try to sense the younger Senju’s chakra. Good plan!

Madara wasn’t as good as the man himself but he still was an amazing sensor, only the second best Konoha had. 

He immediately turned on his heels and almost sprinted across the corridor to his sibling’s office, fueled by his rising worry.

So it was no wonder when he tore open his older brother’s door and stormed inside without hesitation.

“Nii-san, thank kami, you’re still here! Have you seen-“ he abruptly stopped himself mid step, utterly confused, blinking owlishly into the room.

Madara lifted his head from the documents he was writing on, visibly startled.

“What’s wrong?” the older Uchiha immediately demanded concerned, putting his brush down, probably ready to react accordingly to whatever bad thing needed to be dealt with.

Izuna first shot his brother a highly questioning stare and then gave the bench in his peripheral and its unusual occupant a perplexed look. 

What?

Was he seeing things?

He scowled, Tobi definitely looked real and unwell.

Full of worry he rushed over to the unconscious man.

“Oh kami, what did you do to him?!” he demanded, flailing panicked and kneeling beside the bench as soon as he was close enough.

The clan head immediately bristled at that.

“Excuse you?! You should be kissing my feet right now because I showed him way more kindness than he deserves!” Madara bellowed, standing abruptly and slamming his open palms on the desk before him in insulted irritation.

Izuna gave him a disappointed scowl, unimpressed. 

He was too used to his Aniki’s short temper to be fazed.

“Don’t talk about him like that, Nii-San,” he admonished him, slightly irritated himself and turned back to his friend.

His eyes widened.

“Were you the one to give him my blanket-“ the Uchiha heir started surprised.

“What? Don’t tell me, you’re mad at me because of that!“ the older Uchiha inquired, making an annoyed sound and crossing his arms. “I can buy you-“

“No, no, wait, let me finish. I was trying to say something positive,” Izuna stated calmly, all irritation leaving him in a rush when he noticed that he had wrongly assumed his brother as the source of his friend’s misery.

The other grunted for him to continue. Seemingly too cooling down a bit.

“Were you the one to give him my blanket and the pillow? That’s really kind of you,” he offered, smiling gratefully at his older sibling.

At that Madara cleared his throat, a bit embarrassed, it seemed.

“What was I supposed to do? I’m not a heartless monster-“

Izuna gave his brother an increasingly fond smile. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he needed to apologize for his own hasty first reaction when he entered-

“-unlike that frosty-“

His fondness immediately shifted into annoyance and his smile dropped. He definitely wasn’t wrong to assume the worst when he had entered the office.

“Can you not even stop being mean to him for five minutes?” the Uchiha heir complained, rolling his eyes and shifting his weight next to the bench. “He’s not even conscious.”

Madara huffed miffed and he himself sighed, exasperated.

Couldn’t his brother be decent or at least polite to the albino like a normal person? He wouldn’t ask them to kiss and make up but did his Aniki always have to actively undermine and attack the other? 

It was exhausting to watch.

Plus he was pretty convinced that his sibling didn’t even find joy in it and was basing his disdain and irritation off of a litany of misunderstandings he once partially himself had held against the Senju heir. But Madara was too stubborn and hot headed to try to even think about solving them.

Tobi on the other hand was easily overwhelmed by too big displays of emotion directed at him and thus tended to keep his distance, Izuna now knew from experience. Which didn’t mean that the younger Senju had no feelings like many claimed. He did have feelings. A lot of them in fact. Just masterfully concealed under a façade like he had been strictly taught by his father because shinobi and soldiers weren’t supposed to feel emotions in his books. 

Which by the way was utter bull. Not only Uchiha gained immense power from emotions like love.

To be honest, though, the Uchiha heir was extremely grateful to actually even know about any of that since it made understanding the Senju heir much easier. 

But he knew that it had taken an immense amount of trust and a huge leap of faith for Mito-hime to even tell him in the first place. He also knew she had only told him because the two heirs had had a huge fight a few months ago, back in the beginning when Izuna had tried to befriend the albino. 

The Uchiha had thought him ice cold right then and there in that argument. After a few failed attempts to get closer to him, he had already spiralled into frustration, which then easily ignited his bad temper when they fought and thus he thoughtlessly had cussed him out as an emotionless block of ice and worse in front of the Uzumaki princess and her oblivious husband and left, feeling like he had wasted his time with an unfeeling asshole when all he got in return had been a closed off, steely face.

Over the next couple days he hadn’t run into Tobirama once and even had started to expect the other’s older brother to come for his ass like his own would if anyone hurt him but Mito-hime had visited him in his office actually and even then he too had expected her to be furious and rip his head off. She could be a scary woman if you hurt her loved ones.

Instead she had vaguely filled him in about some of the ways Butsuma had raised Tobirama and asked him to at least try to explain his side to Tobi in a logical way without any shouting because he either closed himself off or viciously retaliated when people got too emotional and thus insulted or yelled at him. Though she had assured him that he was a very reasonable man if one faced him and his wrongdoings calmly with logical arguments.

In his opinion, she must’ve seen that he would grow to be a decent friend to the other if they resolved things and thus had even admitted to misjudging her brother-in-law as well back when she had been first introduced to him. She guiltily had added that she could understand his frustration but also knew that it would be worth it to try to understand the younger Senju better seeing how he became one of her few precious people after she cleared the misunderstandings up. So she had made it her task to help out if she saw that good people had the same misconceptions she had had.

Their talk had convinced him and he had heeded her advice.

He had curbed his temper and tried to talk to Tobirama and it amazingly worked which led to them making up.  
Unsurprisingly she was right and he was glad that he had kept his rival turned friend in his life. Not many knew how kind he actually was to his precious persons and Izuna was smugly proud to be included in that small circle of people. One just had to have a bit of an understanding about Tobirama to see how much he actually cared in his own way.

So he felt certain that if his brother too would deign to try to talk reasonably with the Senju heir, like he himself started doing after that fight, instead of emotionally screeching insults at him like an enraged porcupine, they would actually get along well, too. They even had quite a few things in common. But no, bullheadedly hoarding unresolved misunderstandings and throwing unfounded insults at Tobirama seemed to be one of his older brother’s hobbies much to his own misfortune.

Rasping breaths and a cough startled him out of his musings back into reality.

He glanced back down at the white haired man who shifted, trying to curl even more into himself. His friend looked horribly unwell, shivering even with the blanket. Izuna immediately pulled said blanket up to the other’s chin carefully and tucked him in a bit more.

“How did he end up here? No offence, Nii-san, but-”

His Aniki grunted surprised and he looked up at him.

Oh, he had been so deep in thought, he hadn’t even noticed hat Madara had sat back down and continued working on the documents in the meantime.

”He almost face planted into his desk right in front of me when I tried to get a signature,” the older man huffed, glancing at him.

He cringed at that.

”I told him to go home at least once a day,” Izuna sighed to himself.

Madara’s brows knit together as he looked questioningly at him, pausing mid stroke.

“What do you mean ‘once a day’?” he mumbled confused.

Izuna sighed.

“Well. He is a horrible busy bee and tends to take on way too much work. Your tree friend is no help either because he loves to push all of his work off on him and Tobi is bad at denying the tree stump anything.” At that he scowled disapprovingly. “So that’s probably how he got sick in the first place.” He pouted.

Madara looked slightly concerned at him.

“I wonder if he works until he falls asleep on his desk out of exhaustion whenever Touka, Mito-hime or I don’t get to him first. You know, like the workaholic he is,” Izuna added in a worried but fond tone, patting the albino’s soaked hair gently. A bit of tension bled out of the sick man’s stiff frame.

“And I wonder how he’s still alive with how trusting he is in his sleep. He didn’t even stir when I got close,” his brother grumbled, scowling.

“Why would he stir when you get close?” Izuna made a confused sound and squinted at his sibling.

“What if I were an enemy here to kill him? He’d already be dead,” the other stated.

“But Tobi knows you’re not an enemy? He can differentiate foe from friend in his sleep,” he stated thoughtful and got a bewildered look in return.

“He can sense that well in his sleep?” His brother slightly gaped at him.

“He’s a natural sensor.” Izuna snickered. “If he’s really familiar with the chakra signature, he can even distinguish the person. So I’m positive he knew it was you.”

The Uchiha Clan Head made a baffled but thoughtful noise. Tobirama shifted, making the bench creak.

“I noticed, he doesn’t even have anything comfortable to sit on,” Madara intoned thoughtful to probably change the subject after a moment of surprise, looking over.

He too was surprised. Not at the creaky noise, though, but at his brother. He couldn’t recall them ever talking this much about the Senju Heir, simply because his Aniki got mad about one thing or another real fast, as soon as the subject fell on the albino. Weird.

“Ah yes. He once told me that he didn’t need things like that because he doesn’t have many visitors except a select few for business. But most business is done in your tree friend’s office or the different departments Tobi oversees or works in,” he stated thoughtfully.

“What about his family?” the Clan Head inquired, frowning.

“If they want to spend time with him, they usually try to drag him out of the office to get some fresh air or drag him into their own work space. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him sit in his older brother’s office though. But I did run into him in Touka’s and Mito-sama’s offices, on rare occasions when they were able to wrestle him into a break,” he mused.

Madara hummed in thought, staring unblinkingly at the pale man.

“Speaking of comfortable things though, this bench is barely comfortable enough for a nap, you can’t actually let him sleep on this in his state,” Izuna mused, his concern making a comeback.

The bench wasn’t a good substitute for a bed. A quick nap on it was fine but a sick and bruised man wouldn’t be able to rest well.

“So what should I do? Take him home with me or what?” Madara snorted.

“Yes.” Izuna nodded, easily agreeing. 

“Wait. You can’t be serious? This doesn’t have anything to do with me. We’re not friends. I already was way too nice by giving him a pillow and your blanket,” Madara groused at him.

“If you asked me to look after your sick tree friend, I would, even though we’re not friends either and he’s really obnoxious. On the other hand, Tobi is the quietest guy I know, you probably won’t even notice he’s there most of the time! Please???” 

He tried the highest caliber of his most damning puppy eyes, he only reserved for very special occasions and clasped his hands in a plea.

To be honest, he didn’t even think it would work seeing how much his Aniki disliked the albino. 

But he had to try. That bench or leaving him home alone were both out of the question. And he couldn’t take the rest of the day off either, seeing how he had to attend that meeting in roughly half an hour. 

Tobi would be furious if he ditched their important guests because they had been working on this for months. Touka was gone on a mission and Mito-hime and the tree sap were housing said important guests until they had to leave in a couple days. No way would the Uzumaki princess be able to vanish in the middle of keeping the guests entertained to go and care for Tobirama. 

So that just left his own brother whom he would bribe if he had to.

“What about the new hospital?” said brother inquired, thoughtful.

“We can’t bring him there, he would hate that,” he countered.

“Why? Oh no is the poor bastard scared of doctors?” the older Uchiha lifted a brow and grinned mockingly at the sleeping man.

“His clan healers did horrible stu-,” Izuna suddenly blurted out to defend his friend but stopped himself and got a surprised look.

“What the hell do you m-“ his Aniki started confused.

Shit, that had been confidential, Tobi would be mad. Or worse. Disappointed. What made the latter so much worse was that his friend had slowly stopped to expect being screwed over by him and instead started to gradually trust him.

“I’m not going to tell you because you’ll use that info in one of your future bitch fights to attempt to hurt him. And I don’t want to indirectly help you,” Izuna admonished him with a guilty scowl.

He knew he wasn’t wrong about that. His older brother liked to try to hit the albino hard to garner a reaction out of him. What he didn’t know though was that Tobi’s favourite weapon against the older Uchiha was to give him his blank poker face because he knew that ignoring his insults was the most effective weapon against him. Thus his brother didn’t even know how hard he had hit the younger man half of the time in their many fights.

But Madara thankfully let it go and huffed.

“I still have to finish this work,” his Aniki tried halfheartedly.

“I thought you had the rest of the day off now? Didn’t you say so before I went on my break?” he inquired confused. 

His brother crossed his arms and leaned back.

“You said he did my paperwork for me when I was sick…” the Clan Head offered.

Oh. _Oh._

He hadn’t even thought about the Senju Heir’s workload in all of his worry.

“He did.” Izuna nodded. “Oh, so this is his?” 

Madara nodded in return.

Maybe he would be able to convince his brother after all, seeing how he apparently had voluntarily planned to sacrifice his precious partial day off already.

“You can do it from home and then let a courier bring it here when you’re finished. I’ll even take some off of you and distribute it between the others and myself so you don’t have to sacrifice all of your time off,” he offered pleadingly in return, metaphorically handing his sibling an olive branch.

At that Madara huffed a suffering sigh.

“I’m not going to spoon feed him or-“

“You don’t have to!” Sudden relief flooded the younger man. 

Jackpot.

Madara was the biggest secret mother hen Izuna knew of and he loved it when his aniki took care of him when he was sick. It made being ill less horrible when his brother adoringly doted on him and made sure he felt the best and most cared for he could manage. Bringing him and doing almost anything for him if he just asked.

Of course he wouldn’t do that for Tobi but he guessed that his older sibling’s reluctant care would beat any care the albino had received thus far. Plus Madara wasn’t a coldhearted monster indeed. He had a lot of compassion in him and would never kick a man at his lowest.

“He can sleep at our home and I will have an eye on him but as soon as you come home, he’s your responsibility. Yours alone,” the older man huffed.

No problem. As soon as he was done with work, he’d make sure that his friend got the best care he could provide him with and until then he would have his Aniki to keep an eye on him. Tobi would probably sleep most of that time either way. Perfect.

“I promise!” He smiled and shot the other a grateful look.

“I’m not making him any special food either. If he doesn’t like what I make, it’s his problem,” his brother continued.

“Thank you! Don’t worry, he’s not a picky eater at all,” he exclaimed gratefully.

“I have to attend meetings tomorrow in his and my behalf,” the older Uchiha warned him.

Oh, their project, right!

“I’ll reschedule my appointments for tomorrow then and I’ll stay with him while you go to your meetings. I’m sure Mito-hime can pull some strings for me,” Izuna amicably offered.

“Speaking of meetings. Don’t you have one to attend to in a bit?” Madara inquired in his big brother manner, leaning his head on his hand.

“Oh shit, you’re right! I came here for the notes in Tobi’s office,” the younger Uchiha suddenly remembered. “Do you have his office key?”

“I don’t, he locked it himself,” the other hummed.

Oh.

Izuna turned back around to his sick friend and started searching for the keys in the other’s pockets, avoiding his bruised side until he found them. 

“Oh I definitely need to get him a change of clothes from his office, he’s soaked,” he mused, scowling compassionately.

His brother noncommittally hummed at him.

“Alright, I’ll be right back!” Izuna exclaimed as he got up. 

It got him a distracted nod from his Aniki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not sure if I was able to pull off Izuna or not. Writing this made me notice that I’ve never actually tried to see things through his eyes. It was interesting and a lot of fun, though!
> 
> And I realized that I tend to pick chapter names from Tobirama’s POV in direct contrast to the chapters themselves which haven’t been.  
> (Thought it might be a fun fact :>)
> 
> -
> 
> Oh and in case you want to privately hit me up about any of my works or MadaTobi :>, please feel free to do so on [Tumblr](https://aurora-nuova.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/aurora_nuova)


	4. Scared to get close, hate being alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! :>
> 
> Let’s start the year with the longest chapter thus far.

* * *

#### Chapter 4: Scared to get close, hate being alone

* * *

  


Why did it feel like he was letting Izuna have a pet and even more so like the responsibility of said pet would fall back on him in the end?

Madara stared blankly at the document before him and sighed, suffering.

Peace really was making him go soft on the inside, wasn’t it? This was proof enough.  
Nobody, not even Izuna, was allowed to know that, though, lest his fearsome reputation might be ruined forever.

At least the brat wasn’t mad at the blanket situation and the icy asshole was still sleeping. So two good things to take from this, he guessed. 

Which were rather meager spoils, the more he thought about it. Whatever.

The Uchiha Clan Head looked back down at the document in front of him, reread the paragraph for the fifth time and sighed in irritation. 

How did the pale man even understand half of this? Research management for the medical department? Neither medicine nor research were Madara’s strong suit, he had to admit. Even though he enjoyed jutsu theory as a hobby and liked to read up on it, that knowledge wouldn’t help him here, would it? Maybe he should put this particular document back into the pile that Izuna was going to take so he could hand it out to someone else. 

But admitting he didn’t know something out loud to his younger sibling who looked up to him didn’t feel right so he had tried to stubbornly understand the paperwork.

However Izuna wasn’t here right now.

He spread out his senses again and tried to sense his little brother’s crackling chakra signature which wasn’t moving, hurriedly slid the stack of paper back into one of the sorted piles he made and righted it.

Nobody had to know. 

He grabbed a new piece of paper off of one of the other piles. Thankfully it turned out to be paperwork on budgeting for one of the academy projects. 

Ha! He could do that one. He grinned, relieved.

After a scant few minutes, Izuna shuffled back into his office with a notebook and a little stack of papers and approached his desk.

“Here!” He held out the thick notebook for him.

“What’s that? And don’t tell me it’s a notebook or I will throw it at you,” he demanded.

Izuna snorted.

“One of Tobi’s many notebooks. You’ll need it for the meeting dossier that you’ll have to write for your wooden dummy of a friend unless you want him to hopelessly embarrass us in front of the delegates of the Daimyo tomorrow.” Izuna snickered.

“Wait, the ice prince writes those?” Madara scowled astonished and accepted the notebook.

“Of course Tobi does, who do you think did?” his sibling looked at him funny.

“I don’t know but I wouldn’t have thought him to lower himself and do work like this.”

The younger man scoffed at him.

“Firstly, he considers no work too low for himself. Secondly, writing those is not lower work in the first place and thirdly, those dossiers are amazing,” the younger Uchiha declared proudly.

Alright, those information dossiers truly had saved their asses and had helped them seal a lot of big deals and agreements with other clans many times. No need to agree out loud, though, or his sibling might tell the snowflake whose ego didn’t need another boost. He already held and thought himself too superior for his tastes. So he just hummed, neutral.

“Whatever.” His brother rolled his eyes at him. 

“You seem like the best choice to write it, seeing as it’s your project, too,” Izuna stated miffed.

Madara nodded and opened up the notebook.

Holy goddess of flames, _so much information_. He flipped through the pages. Notes on so many different subjects like the academy, ideas for a shinobi rank system, improvements of their sanitation, trading, other clans and much more. 

And this was supposed to be one of many? Alright, colour him impressed.

He ardently hoped his awe wasn’t showing on his face.

“I know he was working on an outline yesterday and had planned to finish it today, so you’ll even have a guideline,” his sibling mused, moving away from his desk after he had put down his meeting notes.

“Alright, I’ll take a look at it at home.” The older Uchiha said, putting the notebook on his desk.

When he heard Izuna move away from him but not towards the bench, he looked up and slowly narrowed his eyes.

“Where are you going?” Suspicion was colouring his voice.

“I was wondering if-“ his Otouto started, turning back around when he was caught in whatever he had been planning.

“Wait, didn’t you forget something?” The clan head interjected, suddenly remembering.

“Yes, actually that was what I wanted to talk about, Nii-san, uh-“ the younger Uchiha said but interrupted himself.

He grunted prompting.

“You see, I looked for a change of clothes but looks like I was right and he had been staying in his office so my best guess is that he’s wearing it already,” the brat intoned hesitantly, glancing at him with a pout.

“So?” Madara demanded wary.

“Soooo, I was wondering if you could lend him yours?” Izuna sent him a sheepish grin.

“Why not yours?” He countered with a dry look.

“Getting the clothes would take too long and they’d be way too short. You guys are almost the same height and I’ll even wash your clothes for you afterwards. Pretty please?” Izuna was saying in a pleading voice over his shoulder as he already was ransacking the older Uchiha’s drawer with his change of clothes for when he deemed the ones he wore unpresentable.

Madara had learned his lesson after one too many fiascos with wardrobe malfunctions as an important representative of their village. 

Or like that one time with Hashirama when they had to attend an important board meeting after said idiot of a friend had spilled soy sauce on him in his excited gesturing while they had been eating lunch in his office. However the meeting had been too close in time to go back home and change so he had to brave through it after their measly attempt to un-stain his robe.  
Thankfully the other attendees had been too scared to even dare a bemused smile at his expanse.  
Izuna, the little shit, still sometimes made fun of him, though.

Speaking of the brat. Again, he was indulging his brother too much. But whatever. He was his last living sibling, damn him if he couldn’t deny him most of the time and liked to spoil him from time to time. That was nobody’s business but his alone. It was way better than a sibling who feared or hated you.

Still.

He casually beckoned him over with one hand because he needed to reinforce his status as the big scary Clan Head and older brother. He would teach him a lesson. It wouldn’t do him any good to let the brat think he had him wrapped around his finger.

Izuna hummed questioningly and came over with the clothes laid over his arms.

When he was close enough, Madara abruptly grabbed the front of his Uchiha robe and pulled him forward to wrestle the other’s head under his arm in a headlock. Some brotherly manhandling would teach him a lesson, he was sure. The younger Uchiha yelped and flailed in true Uchiha fashion to fight him off and when Madara’s hand hovered over the younger man’s still pretty tidy looking hair, he outright screeched into his face.

“Please no! Have mercy, I have a meeting in less than half an hour!” 

Izuna chortled and halfheartedly tried to free himself from his Aniki’s clutches, the clothes in his arms keeping him from grabbling with Madara like he usually did.

At that Madara sighed in dramatic fashion.

“Wouldn’t want the others to think you’re a floozy, doing inappropriate things at work, would we?” he offered with a smirk evident in his voice, hand still hovering above the other’s hair as an empty threat.

Making it look presentable was a feat, he knew from experience. He had given up on his and didn’t bother most of the time but Izuna wrangled his own every day into something orderly looking and secured it into his trademark ponytail. So Madara couldn’t mess the other’s hair up with a good conscience but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t try to scare him a bit.

Izuna let out a breathy laugh. “Lemme go from your smelly armpit!” He said disgusted but cackling.

Startled, Madara let go of him to take a sniff of himself. 

“You little shit, I smell good!” Madara bellowed, amused at his younger brother’s childish move.

The brat was chortling gleefully at him which made it hard for him to stop his own bemused grin from widening even more.

Okay, back to the matter at hand.

“You owe me,” the Clan Head said, crossing his arms, still a bit bemused.

“Fine, fine. I’ll even bring you your favourite food for dinner after work as thanks,” the other offered with a satisfied smirk and went back to Tobirama.

That actually sounded nice. He couldn’t remember when he last ate inarizushi so it definitely was something to look forward to. 

“Nii-san, you should turn around or something unless you want to have new spicy material for your wet dreams!” the little demon spawn stated with a shit eating grin and startled him out of his thoughts.

That little shit!

“Shut up, as if!” Madara shrieked mortified as he threw one of his dry brushes at his brother who only started cackling even more, shoulders shaking in mirth when it bounced off of him.

As far as he knew, it was a brotherly jab to rile him up and not due to some knowledge his younger sibling possessed.  
He never had mentioned his… well… awkward fascination with the albino’s looks to the younger Uchiha because he knew that he’d strangle the Senju as soon as he looked funny at him or made an aggravating remark. Not a chance for it to turn into more than what it was now.

And only because he thought someone was handsome or pretty didn’t mean he had to pursue that person in the first place. Plus he was pretty sure that the pale Senju’s stick up his ass probably prevented him from a casual and quick tumble in the sheets with anyone. Especially him. They hated each other. Right. Not that he was into one night stands either. Even less with the snowy asshole. It just highlighted how stupid it would be to mention it to Izuna. Absolutely. He nodded absently to cement his opinion. 

Then he re-crossed his arms and hurriedly turned away when his brother started lifting the blanket on the albino.

He heard Izuna mumble something when the white haired man on the bench grunted sleepily but couldn’t make out the words so it probably hadn’t been directed at him in the first place.

He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, listening to his brother’s humming and the distinct rustle of fabric.

“Ewww what kinda ugly haori is that? Definitely must be Tobi’s brother’s!” the younger man suddenly exclaimed amused.

The older man slightly grimaced when suddenly, judging by the sound, something slightly soaked hit the floor.

“That’s my educated guess, too. Only Hashirama would own something like that,” he chuckled in agreement.

“Speaking of him. Don’t let the tree sap catch you when you take Tobi home or he won’t let you go,” his brother pointed out, distracted.

Confused Madara turned back to him out of reflex and hastily averted his eyes. He hadn’t seen much except for some of the albino’s side because the younger Uchiha had been in front of the sick man, shielding him as he was pulling the Uchiha robe down around his chest. But that didn’t even matter as something else entirely had caught his eye.

“The hell is that bruise?” he demanded, scowling to himself.

“Huh? Oh, he had an accident at his lab,” Izuna offered, exasperated but fond at the same time.

“It doesn’t look that fresh, judging by the colouring,” he stated thoughtful.

“No, it was three days ago.”

He hummed in answer.

Why didn’t he get it healed? Okay, well Izuna had let something slip about a dislike of healers just before but he couldn’t imagine that he wouldn’t trust Hashirama to heal him? Did he hide it from his elder brother? But that didn’t make any sense.

Still, he stopped himself when he was about to open his mouth because he wouldn’t ask the younger Uchiha. He already had asked way too many questions about the younger Senju. This was probably starting to look like he cared or some mushy bull like that. Kami forbid.

He huffed.

“Wait. Won’t he dislike that the uchiwa is on him? He hates the Uchiha”, Madara suddenly remembered.

“No he doesn’t,” Izuna declared annoyed.

Right and he was planning to propose his undying love to Hashirama.

He grimaced.

Ewww. Making fun about it was even disgusting. After all, they were like brothers.

“Aren’t you going to be late?” the clan head asked in lieu of an acknowledgment.

“If so I’ll come up with an excuse, I’m rarely late and I’m right about done,” the other huffed. 

The older man hummed.

“Okay, done. I made him sit up, do you want me to help you get him on your back for faster travel?”

Madara grunted an affirmative and got up. When he turned around, Izuna already had fastened the blanket around the other’s shoulders, probably because it was cold out and so no one would see the uchiwa on the Senju’s back. 

Well, this was going to be awkward, wasn’t it? He and Tobirama hadn’t really touched yet. Nothing beside a grab on the albino’s turtleneck out of anger once. Not even a handshake and now he would be plastered to his back, asleep.

Yes, this definitely would be awkward.

Still, he squatted in front of the bench when Izuna instructed him to and waited for his sibling to gently lower his friend on his back with a grunt. He tensed when he felt the overly warm chest on his back. Then came the legs that he grabbed under the other’s knees. Next he felt, then saw the pale Senju’s arms around his shoulders. Oh this wasn’t only awkward but horribly embarrassing. Why had he agreed to this again? Right, because he was weak to Izuna’s pleas.

“You better make it two servings of inarizushi,” he grumbled embarrassed when a warm face first pressed, then huffed a breath into his neck.

Oh this absolutely would feature in one of his future dreams, he was very sure. But probably in much more inappropriate ways than he dared to think about with his brother next to him.

“No problem,” the younger Uchiha answered with gratitude but still couldn’t suppress a huff of laughter when he started to rub a towel into the white hair to dry it.

After discarding the used towel on the bench, Izuna stood up and went over to the desk, organizing the paperwork into a smaller and a bigger pile. Then he grabbed a storage scroll out of his pocket and sealed the smaller stack of papers and the notebook in it and approached him.

Meanwhile he too stood up with the pale man on his back and promptly lost his balance for a second or two for he had drastically overestimated the other’s weight. Why was he so light? He scowled thoughtful but the Uchiha heir’s voice broke him out of his musings.

“Here, I’ll take the other stack to distribute among the rest of us,” his younger sibling stated and stuffed the small scroll into Madara’s own pocket with a smile.

“Are you sure about the amount? You gave me less than one fifth of his paperwork,” the older man inquired, worry clear in his voice.

“Yes, don’t worry, Nii-san. It’s not as if I’m going to do it all by myself,” the younger of the two retorted with a smile, adjusting the blanket around Tobirama’s shoulders.

True, he probably would give it to Mito who would divide the confidential documents among herself, Hashirama and Izuna and distribute the less sensitive documents to hopefully capable people.

“Alright, thanks. Now run off to your meeting,” he admonished the other.

“Yes, yes. Leave your key, I’ll come back to get the paperwork later,” Izuna said as he was opening the window for his Aniki.

“See you at home, Nii-san.”

“Yes, see you,” he huffed. 

Madara carefully climbed out of the window and took the way to the Uchiha district over the rooftops so he wouldn’t stumble into anyone and get questioned. Which had been a good idea because nobody saw him and he was glad because the Senju’s face next to his ear and his low grumbles and whines whenever he impacted one of the roofs a bit harder due to his distraction, were flustering him pretty badly. Definitely more fuel for his imagination for later on. 

He was immensely grateful that his flush had almost vanished when he was about to reach the piece of land that had been given to his clan.

A sudden shriek made him whip around when his feet abruptly touched the ground of the Uchiha district after his last jump off of a roof and he came face to face with Hikaku who had blanched and dropped the scrolls, he apparently had been carrying.

He was gaping at him in horror.

“What are you looking at?! He’s not dead, okay?!” Madara yelled annoyed, bristling.

He knew people would assume crazy things like that because he and the albino couldn’t peacefully stay in a room for more than five minutes. Alright, maybe even that would be pushing it. And for him to carry him? Unthinkable. He must’ve killed the other. Of course that inane idea had to be the first assumption.

“Uhh… Are you sure, Madara-sama?” his younger cousin asked him faintly, looking absolutely unconvinced.

He huffed a sigh of annoyance.

He really liked Hikaku, normally. He was a distant cousin. A calm and collected man without a real temper. But right now his reaction hadn’t made him one of his favourite people. Still, he had an idea.

“Help me out, will ya?” he demanded, as he was turning back to the house he and Izuna shared.

“To hide his body?” the younger man whispered, looking like he had seen a ghost.

“No! To lay out a futon so I can put him down on it, you brat,” the clan head exclaimed with annoyance radiating off of him and faked a kick at him while he was at it.

That though only got him a hesitant nod but he didn’t care because Hikaku still followed him when he started walking away after the other picked up the scrolls from the ground.

Where should he instruct his cousin to lay out the futon? He could just put the snowflake into one of the guest bedrooms. Wait, that would be bad for keeping an eye on him and he had promised Izuna. His study it was then.

His normally reasonable cousin kept acting like he was handling a corpse right up until the moment the icicle deemed it a good time to show a sign of life. 

By sneezing right into Madara’s face and thus his bangs.

Coincidentally that same moment he started to contemplate whether he really should first kill the albino and his cousin right after because the asshole dared to right out laugh at him after his fears had been laid to rest. Very tempting. He shot the younger man a withering glare that abruptly shut him up.

Ultimately he kicked him out before he tried to strangle him. 

So finally he sat down at his low table, not far from the wheezing and sleeping man and unsealed the storage scroll his younger sibling had given him, making the little stack of paper and the thick notebook puff back into existence on the tabletop. 

He shot the items a considering look. Izuna had taken a lot off of his hands, meaning he’d still have roughly half a day off even including a cooked meal for lunch. He smiled relieved.

Thinking about food made his stomach grumble, though, so he got up to fix something up for them. 

Once he was standing in the kitchen, he looked at what they had at hand. He could make some Yaki Udon or Soba noodles. 

While he was debating what he would prefer, his eyes landed on the ginger on the countertop and he hummed. Shogayu was good for colds and flus. Plus it wasn’t a hassle to grate some ginger or to put it into a cup with a bit of black syrup and hot water. Making the ginger tea would take maybe five minutes and probably help the pale Senju out a lot. Fine.

He huffed a sigh and grabbed the ginger for the tea as he continued to mull over what he would make for lunch when a painfully sounding wet cough from down the hall made him grimace. So he grabbed a jar of honey instead of the syrup to add to the tea later on when he was done with lunch.

On second thought, noodles probably were a bad idea if he didn’t want to watch his unwanted guest choke on them in a coughing fit. So that left rice. 

He was fine with rice. He could make some katsudon, they should have the necessary ingredients, too.

Thus he grabbed the rice out of a cupboard to wash it.

Well, he wouldn’t mind some okayu either. The traditional rice porridge was a homey, nice meal and they had some salted salmon and green onion left. He kinda was in the mood for the emotionally invested meal they had eaten as kids.

And he refused to believe anything else because it absolutely didn’t have anything to do with it being a comfort food for sick people. No. He just was in the mood for it. 

So he started to wash the rice.

Later, just as Madara came back with the icicle’s portion of rice porridge and steaming ginger tea, he startled. 

The Senju was trying to get up with the help of the low table next to the futon. His face looked even more flushed than before and his grab for the tabletop was rather clumsy.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded exasperated.

He mentally shook himself out of his stupor and hastily entered the room to put the tray on the table as the younger man managed to sit up and lethargically dragged one of the documents, Madara had unsealed, to himself.

“….need to go back to work.” Was his hoarse, lulling answer.

“The hell, you wake up in a foreign place, surrounded by Uchiha chakra signatures and the first thing you think about is work? What’s wrong with you?” the Clan head demanded incredulous, taking the document away.

“Anija says I’m odd, too,” the younger man stated with a humourless quirk of his lips while he tried to grab a blank piece of paper and Madara’s discarded brush in the most uncoordinated way the Uchiha ever had seen him in.

Huh?

He grunted confused.

“But your brother obviously adores and loves you,” he uselessly stated and immediately felt like a blubbering idiot. The hell was wrong with him? 

Though the other seemed high enough from the fever or whatever to need clarification. Wait, shit. What if he had overdosed him? He had been way lighter than he had assumed when he had picked him up. 

“…yes?” 

The answer jarred him out of his thoughts because he never had heard the other’s voice so hesitant and unsure. 

He scowled. 

That had sounded like a question directed at him. As if he thought Madara would know the answer. But he didn’t want to believe that Hashirama wouldn’t make sure that the younger Senju was sure of his older brother’s love. Unthinkable. Usually Hashirama was very blatant in his displays of emotions.

Seriously, even if Izuna had been cold and uncaring or an utter asshole, he’d still love him unconditionally. That was what family was about. Loving each other unconditionally and being there for each other. So Hashirama had to unconditionally love his younger sibling, too, right? Right.

“Go back to bed,” Madara mumbled confused.

“No. Need to be useful,” the sick man murmured stubborn in return.

The clan head’s scowl fell on the other’s uncoordinated writing and how he was dragging his hand through the ink on the paper, smearing said writing in the process.

Would he be even able to read that messy scribble? He doubted it. Five minutes ago he probably would’ve laughed at him but now he wasn’t sure how to actually feel about this whole situation. How badly had he overdosed him? Or was it due to the high fever?

Madara reached over to grab one of the ink stained hands and started wiping it with the wet towel he had brought from the kitchen to originally wipe Tobirama’s sweaty face with.

He honestly was surprised by how tamely the Senju was letting him touch him after a quick startle, even hesitantly leaning into his touch, when he started wiping his face next.

He had to know. He couldn’t even begin to understand how differently the Senju heir was acting to what he had imagined when he reluctantly had accepted Izuna’s plea. He needed to ease his curiosity a bit.

“How come you’re so trusting? I could snap your neck right now if I desired to,” he intoned questioningly when the Senju turned back to his discarded paper.

Though that didn’t even seem to phase the albino.

“You wouldn’t,” said albino answered him bemused, overestimating himself when he leaned over the paper which made him almost fall over.

“Why not?” he demanded even more confused.

With a dopey smile the younger man turned back to him, trying to rub his eye with his other stained hand that Madara had missed, which he then too hastily grabbed before the white haired man got ink into his eyes.

“I’m too useful to kill off,” Tobirama answered calmly after he gave up to get his stained hand back.

The fuck? What kind of reason was this supposed to be?

His fingers stilled in his effort to clean the hand. 

Normal people wouldn’t say shit like that which made it seem like they were some kind of object.  
Like he didn’t have any value besides being useful. What the hell was going on here? He hadn’t signed up for one surprise after the other. 

The clan head tried to shake the slightly unsettling feeling that tried to overcome him and instead busied himself by checking the food’s temperature.

“Here, eat.” He put the bowl and spoon down in front of the Senju heir when he was satisfied with the temperature and started collecting the scribbled on papers to lay them down to dry in case the pale man had actually written something that made sense and wanted them when he was healthy.

However the hazy eyed Senju made a grab for the spoon and completely missed his target.

Oh he definitely had overdosed the poor bastard. The Uchiha was increasingly sure of it as he watched the pale man finally succeed to capture the spoon but completely miss the bowl and meanwhile almost dunk a wide sleeve in it instead.

Madara’s eyes widened as he made a grab for said sleeve.

Oh this was going to be difficult, wasn’t it?

He huffed as he deftly rolled the sleeves up so the dazed albino wouldn’t actually succeed to drag them through the food and really had to try hard to not to burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Tobirama watched him groggily. Not like he distrusted him but more as if he was deeply intrigued.

Okay?

Suddenly Madara nearly despaired as he saw the food almost drip into the Uchiha collar and made a grab for the hand holding the spoon.

“No no no, you have to make it until Izuna is home, I’m not gonna change you into a clean set of clothes,” he whined, holding the pale hand in place, so it wouldn’t tip to the side, undoubtedly loosing all the content of the spoon.

Over his dead body was he undressing the other and giving himself pictures to remember. That would be absolutely wrong and disrespectful.

Tobirama then dazedly leaned forward and tried to eat the porridge off of the spoon that Madara was holding suspended and partially succeeded in doing so. Only a bit off the content got smeared on his face in the process.

The snowflake slightly leaned into him when he wiped his chin with the towel, weirdly contently for being so sick and woozy.

He sighed, amused but beyond exasperated.

This wasn’t going to work, was it?

So he looked around paranoid and extended his senses, making sure that no one was around to witness what he was about to do.

Time to break his word again. Uh no, for the first time. Right.

The Uchiha grabbed the spoon and food and started to systematically feed the sick man with surprising success and astonishingly little protest. Well, he was used to feeding Izuna when he had been little and Kagami in more recent times. So probably not that surprising if he was honest. The lack of protest though was indeed confusing.

“My mother used to make this for me, too,” Tobirama slurred dazedly through an almost full mouth after a few spoonfuls of food had finally found their way into it instead of onto him.

The clan head hummed.

He shouldn’t have found it as adorable as he did, seeing as the other was talking with his mouth full and he hated when Hashirama did it because it was disgusting but somehow the knowledge that the younger Senju wasn’t doing it out of lack of manners but due to lack of self control somehow made it more endearing. Sue him.

After roughly a third of the bowl was emptied, Madara wiped the other’s face again and the albino got distracted by the hair that fell over his shoulder when he had leaned in.

When the older Uchiha reached over the table for the tea and made the other drink some of it, Tobirama made to grab for his hair.

Madara startled and leaned away out of habit, almost spilling some of the liquid.

Immediately the albino jolted his hand back, as if burned, shying away from him with a dazed, fallen face.

When the clan head gave him a surprised look, the other dropped his eyes and withdrew back into himself. More akin to his usual unreadable self. 

He realized, startled, that they had been having eye contact multiple times since the albino woke up which was weird seeing as the other usually avoided his eyes. 

Oh goddamn… This wouldn’t do. 

The other almost had seemed like a drastically calmer, less obnoxious and more endearing version of Hashirama in his grogginess.

To his dismay he already missed the more human version of Tobirama who apparently had been high or feverish enough to lower his walls like that. 

Honestly, he shouldn’t have been so surprised that the other actually was capable of showing emotions but he was. He truly had thought the other to be a cruel, cold asshole who didn’t care for others or peace and only obediently followed Hashirama’s orders because the latter was the Clan Head and Hokage. Duty was an important part in the Senju Clan.

Deep down he already knew he would offer Tobirama his hair back so he would stop looking like he had deeply hurt him. He felt like they had made some kind of positive progress. So he put the tea down and grabbed half of his hair off of his back. 

“Hey, it’s fine. You just startled me,” he offered ungainly, trying to sound soothing.

The Uchiha leaned back towards the albino, feeling even more awkward. This definitely felt like unfamiliar territory in their rocky relationship.

When that didn’t get him a reaction, he tried again.

“Here. It’s pretty knotted, though,” he admitted with a careful huff of laughter to loosen the anxious mood the albino was radiating as he dangled the thick strands of hair invitingly in the other’s direction.

That finally earned him a hesitant look in his direction and it took him a moment, but eventually the other grabbed the offered hair with an elegant looking pair of hands.  
Even a hint of the dopey smile slowly returned, as Tobirama seemed to relax a bit when the Uchiha didn’t startle away again.

“Soft,” Tobirama roughly whispered in awe.

It made the dark haired man snort in embarrassed delight. People usually tended to think his hair would have a rough texture because of it’s unkempt looks. He couldn’t say that he was particularly vain, however hearing the opposite being stated was still definitely nice.

“But probably not as soft as yours,” the clan head said casually, nodding at the other’s head. 

The woozy Senju probably wouldn’t remember any of this, so whatever. But the icicle surprisingly hadn’t yet started one fight and even complimented his wild hair. Might as well reward him by giving an honest compliment back. Well, he was feeling generous.

Said compliment got him a hesitant, astonished but surprisingly soft look and an uncoordinated clammy hand slowly reached towards his, softly touching his hand. 

His eyes widened. He never would’ve expected the pale Senju to even be capable of such a soft touch due to his usual demeanour, he almost felt awed.

When he suppressed the instinctual flinch this time, the other seemed to deem it safe enough to gently grab his and lift their hands to his own hair, slightly bowing his head in offer. Which probably would’ve looked elegant under normal circumstances but instead it looked amusingly clumsy when he came close to toppling over.

The other hadn’t actually put it on his hair, though, hovering above it instead. It almost looked like he was asking permission. 

Why would Tobirama need permission for making Madara touch him? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? He huffed.

Even if they disliked and mostly ignored each other under more normal conditions, this wasn’t normal behaviour, he realized.

He had a weird feeling about this. 

Not about the touch itself but about the other’s behaviour surrounding it. Fever or medicine induced highness aside.

However, first he gradually reached out the rest of the way and slowly ruffled the other’s hair like he tended to do with Izuna’s. Red, hazy eyes met his own again hesitantly.

Much better.

“See, I told you.” He grinned. “Even softer than mine.”

His praise got Madara a twitch of the lips that slowly turned into a hesitant, soft smile. The usually hard and sharp lines of Tobirama’s face loosing some of their severity. 

Huh, who would’ve thought that a smile would soften the Senju’s face so extraordinarily

Suddenly he had a stupid idea. 

The Senju had startled whenever he had tried to touch him but then eventually had leaned into his touch. Even back when he helped him walk into his office. The flinching could easily be explained by their ingrained shinobi reflexes; leaning into him even though he couldn’t stand him? Not so much.

At first he had assumed it might be some kind of attraction even though they hated each other but he hadn’t felt any arousal or anything remotely like that from the feverish Senju heir yet, instead it seemed like the other was simply soaking up any friendly touch he could get.

He felt the beginnings of hesitant dread settle in his stomach. Was the other so touch deprived? 

The Uchiha were a rather tactile and closely knit Clan and so it was no surprise that looking out for each other was a deeply ingrained habit of theirs. Therefore they were aware that touch was essential for the human’s emotional, mental and physical wellbeing. Being close with family and friends wasn’t looked down upon but encouraged. The Sharingan and its wielder’s powers obviously deeply profiting from it.

But often Uchiha, who had lost all their loved ones in the war or otherwise, would increasingly distance themselves from any social interactions in their grief. Which then usually would first lead to symptoms of touch deprivation, next a rapid down spiral in their overall mental and lastly their physical health afterwards. Unfortunately that were the dangers of their kekkei genkai, a double edged sword, indeed.  
As Clan Head he had received quite a few notices from worried Clan Members more than once and was rather well versed with the symptoms as a result.

Madara contemplated what little he knew about the other, already in full Clan Head mode.

He honestly never saw anyone touch the snowflake outside of the occasional shoulder pats from his sour looking cousin or hesitant greeting hugs from Mito. Well, until Izuna started to befriend the other that is. His brother was probably just as touchy feely as Madara himself. Much more controlled and restrained with the Senju, though, as far as he could make out from the times he actually had deigned to listen to what Izuna had told him about his time with the Senju heir. Which wasn’t often, to be fair. Hence why he couldn’t make a thorough assessment right now. 

He probably was wrong. But still. He would find a suitable situation and ask his little brother because deep down something bothered him enough to know that he wouldn’t be able to let it go until he found out about it. He was way too stubborn to drop things as soon as they caught his curiosity.

Madara jostled out of his musings when the sick man suddenly looked uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong?”

“I feel nauseous…” the uncharacteristically open albino answered miserable.

“Okay, time for you to go back to bed then.”

Had he given him too much food? Or was it the apparent overdose? He hoped it was neither.

Something deep inside him stirred at the pitying sight in front of him and so he slowly picked the other up into his arms even though he expected a fight or protest. 

Instead Tobirama first startled out of his daze but then leaned his head into his shoulder, just looking unwell. Resulting in making him seem much closer to his actual age.

Surprised, the Uchiha helped him back to bed and covered him in the blankets, which got him a hesitantly disappointed look.

The Senju’s unusual behaviour apparently had sparked some sympathy in him because for the first time he didn’t see the unfeeling block of ice he detested so much in Tobirama, but the tired and sick younger sibling he had forgotten the other was in all of his disdain for the younger man.

So he acted on his earlier assumption, grabbed the cold rag that was resting inside the bowl of water, wrung it out and gently started wiping the sweat off of the younger man’s face. And if he took much longer doing so than was strictly needed, nobody had to know.

When that got him a dopey, content look, he suddenly felt much less bad about breaking his word about the food and everything else.

He definitely needed to ask Izuna about this when he came home. Hashirama and he had wanted to built this village so their little brothers and the children were safe. It wouldn’t do for his friend to compromise the purpose of their dream, would it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the end I felt like this is the best place to stop the chapter even though the original final draft was supposed to leave off even before Madara started preparing the food. 
> 
> However that seemed like a rather boring chapter so I decided to include the dopey Tobirama scene instead.
> 
> I hope the Madara & Tobirama scene was alright because it’s still very difficult for me to gauge how much info about the past/emotions would be neither too excessive nor too little.  
> If you know what I mean?
> 
> \- 
> 
> Oh and in case you want to privately hit me up about any of my works or MadaTobi :>, please feel free to do so on [Tumblr](https://aurora-nuova.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/aurora_nuova)


	5. Numb to the feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait but life kept me busy.
> 
> I did write for this story, though, just not for this chapter, because I had a few ideas for future chapters.
> 
> But finally, this chapter is finished, too.

* * *

#### Chapter 5: Numb to the feeling

* * *

  


When the Senju’s carmine eyes got droopy after some time and finally closed, the Uchiha Clan Head dipped the rag, he had been using to wipe the other’s face, into the bowl of water and then wrung it out until it stopped dripping. His fingers brushed the white bangs away as he spread the cool rag over the younger man’s forehead. 

There.

Just to make sure, he pulled up the blankets higher over Tobirama’s body, covering more of the Uchiha robe in the process. _His_ Uchiha robe.

Honestly, he had thought it would bother him more seeing how he couldn’t stand the guy. At all. Instead he had to admit that it actually was a… _nice_ look on the younger man. Unfamiliar but not bad. Yes, definitely _not bad_. 

Grimacing, Madara concluded that now probably wasn’t the right time nor place to think about such things. He already partially had succeeded in not letting his thoughts drift there as Izuna had helped secure the feverish ice prince on his back at the office. So he definitely should stop thinking about it now as well. Definitely.

He huffed with mixed feelings, letting his eyes roam the flushed face in front of him to distract himself.

The ginger in the tea, he had made the other drink after lunch, should help with the sudden nausea, so he wasn’t really worried about that. Therefore it looked like letting the albino sleep, until the Uchiha would wake him to try to get some more fluids into him to avoid dehydration, was his best option. Which was good because Madara now actually had to start working if he wanted to finish the paperwork before Izuna came home. 

Sighing, he stood up in a smooth motion to gather the dishes and start on his work.

He only startled out of his concentrated writing when an especially fierce cough, followed by a soft, pitiful whine reached his ears. The Uchiha abruptly turned his face over to the sick man with a sympathetic wince. Ouch. He still could remember the coughs that had ripped through him when he had been sick himself. Very painful indeed, definitely worthy of a few whines, too. He scowled at the dark lump of blankets.

Wait.

He immediately paused his train of thoughts when he realized how dark the room already was. The Uchiha hadn’t even noticed when the room started to plunge into darkness in his stubborn attempt to finish all the paperwork as fast as possible without messing anything up. 

Though it had proven fruitful, seeing as he only had to finish two more documents, he mused as he tried to loosen his stiff neck a bit, making it pop a few times in the process. 

And well, the sun was setting much earlier, now that it was autumn, so it wasn’t even that late, but still.

How did the younger Senju even think to attempt to finish so much work in his state? Izuna had only left Madara a fifth of all of the albino’s urgent paperwork for the day and it still took him most of the afternoon to finish even that.

Did the other always have such a high amount of work? If the Uchiha Clan Head was honest with himself, he didn’t think that he himself would’ve been able to finish all of it on his own even though he was perfectly healthy and had been working diligently. No one would dare to even imply that he was less than a hardworking man. But even at the rate he he had been going it didn’t seem doable.

So how? Even if the albino hadn’t been sick; to finish that amount of work wasn’t realistic. Though as far as he knew Tobirama always handed his work in on time. And even often made sure Hashirama did so, too. It didn’t make any sense.

He scowled harder, his eyes absently focusing on his empty tea mug, and at last let a sigh pass his lips.

Probably a mystery to solve for another time.

Might as well take a small break and get the sick man some honey and something to drink because the coughing didn’t sound like it was getting any better soon. Quite the contrary.  
Even so, the albino hadn’t woken up in the time he had been working, thankfully, so he actually could take a small break before he finished the remaining work.

A few minutes later he was standing in the kitchen, yawning and watching the water for the tea boil with crossed arms.

Who would’ve thought? The Uchiha Clan Head staying home to look after the sick Senju Heir. 

Just thinking that thought made him snort in sudden amusement. If anyone would’ve tried to tell him that he would be in this position a year ago, no even a few months ago, he deliberately would’ve let his temper loose and probably scarred the person for life. Though, Madara still couldn’t believe that he had agreed, even now. 

However, he had to admit that it hadn’t been too bad yet because the snowflake, well, had been sleeping, still was apparently. Which is why he dreaded the moment Tobirama would sleep off his sleep deprivation or whatever because then they would inevitably spiral back into their unrelenting bickering and fights. Unfortunately he was very sure of that. 

Honestly, he was getting tired of their fights himself but what could he do? The other just pissed him off to no end. People in general tended to do that but something about the Senju let his already short temper explode even faster.

After the Uchiha had finished his business in the kitchen, he huffed a relieved laugh when coming back to his study didn’t reveal an albino Senju trying to crawl out of bed again. Instead said Senju was lying on his side with his head buried in the trademark Uchiha collar, tangled blankets kicked off of him. 

So Madara put down the trey with the beverages and honey near the futon and curled his arm around the sick man’s shoulders to lift him up a bit to better feed him some honey and make him drink some water. The tea would need to cool down first.

“Wakey wakey, snowflake,” he singsonged with a teasing voice, shaking Tobirama a bit.

When that garnered him absolutely no reaction, he heaved a heavy sigh. It was mildly concerning that the other was sleeping so deeply in his old enemy’s territory. With him so close non the less. He hadn’t figured the Senju Demon for a heavy sleeper, either.

He repeated the process with a bit more insistence. 

That at least earned him a groan and fluttering eyelids. It would have to be good enough, he decided as he grabbed and dunked the spoon into the honey. He just hoped that this would go as smoothly as the medicine he had fed the other.

Luckily, he managed to feed the albino some honey and make him drink some water without any heavy spillage. 

So he sat down at his desk to finish the two documents he had left after he tucked the Senju Heir back in.

  


* * *

  


  
Failing to stifle another big, jaw cracking yawn, Izuna let himself fall down onto the wooden step of the genkan in their home. 

He was exhausted. 

How had Mito-hime not divorced that huge oaf yet? Well, more importantly, why was he Hokage again? The guy was useless in politics and had almost plunged their deal from the last meeting of the evening down the drain because he had misplaced the meeting dossier Tobi had made him and failed to mention anything to any of them. 

Thankfully his wife was a rather sensible person who had succeeded to smooth things over as well as possible and even landed them the deal with the merchant family in spite of the stupid mistakes the stupid tree had made. Maybe she should take the ridiculous Hokage hat instead. At least she wouldn’t fuck things up that badly.

The Uchiha closed his eyes and released an annoyed breath through his nose as he slowly placed down a bag with food and and a big furoshiki next to himself to free his full hands.

It didn’t matter anymore because he finally was home.

Or at least he tried to convince himself as he finished undoing his sandals and picked the things back up he had brought.

He muted his footsteps to try to catch any sounds coming from inside but the house seemed eerily quiet.

Strange.

If Izuna had to be honest, he had been very sure that he’d have to break up some kind of fight between his Aniki and friend as soon as he stepped into their home. But it didn’t seem so.

Weird indeed, he mused, scowling as he approached Madara’s study to hand over the food before he went to look after his sick friend.

Sliding the shoji door open, though, revealed said friend, sleeping on one of their guest futons, tightly wrapped in multiple blankets next to his brother’s low desk with no brother in sight instead. 

Passing through the dim room after making sure the albino was really asleep, he left the food on the desk.

The other shoji door leading out into the garden was left slightly open, so that light was flickering inside.

Finally, when the younger Uchiha curiously peeked his head outside, Madara sat there with a book and a few lit lanterns, deeply immersed in his reading.

Izuna smiled at that, quietly put the furoshiki on the engawa and let his own weight drag himself down onto the older Uchiha’s back in front of him in a boneless back-hug with a playfully tired groan.

He felt content with the huff of laughter that elicited from his older sibling who reflexively braced himself so they wouldn’t topple over.

“Was it that bad?” Madara inquired bemused, patting one of his hands and slightly turned his face, so he could take a quick look at him.

He in return only grumbled theatrically, nuzzling his face into the mass of hair when the older man turned back to his book.

“Awww poor little Izuna,” his Aniki offered in exaggerated sympathy, blindly reaching for his face as if to caress it but purposely missed, almost poking him in the eye with a finger.

“Shut up,” the younger retorted laughing, trying to avoid the grabby fingers, only to get poked in the nose and laughed at instead.

“Why are you so late?” 

“The last meeting of the day took longer because we are damned with a dimwit for a leader,” Izuna huffed annoyed. “You should start buying Mito-hime gifts as an expression of thankfulness for keeping that idiot friend of yours from plunging your dream village into ruin and disaster.”

His older brother snorted.

“That bad?”

“Yes. Let’s change the subject if you don’t want me to be in a bad mood all evening, though.”

“So, what’s the plan concerning the ice prince?” his brother demanded lightly, turning his head back to the half open shoji door.

“I talked to Mito-hime after my first meeting and she informed me that she will shift our appointments around, so we better can take care of him,” he retorted fondly.

Madara hummed.

“What’s with the furoshiki?”

“Oh, when I was leaving for home, she stopped me to give it to me. It contains some of his things.”

“He’s not moving in with us,” his older sibling snarked without any real heat.

“Don’t worry, it’s not much, just the bare essentials,” he chirped in answer.

He wasn’t even lying to his Aniki for Mito-hime had only given him Tobirama’s trademark fur, his favourite blanket with intricate Uzushio style whirlpool embroidery she had gifted him for one of his birthdays and the albino’s sun oil, so he wouldn’t get a sunburn.

He had approached the Uzumaki right after his first meeting was over and it had been clear very fast that she hadn’t even known that her brother-in-law was sick so Tobi must’ve barricaded himself in his office to hide his dreadful state from her or she would’ve immediately sent him home with a big scolding. 

Usually it still was difficult to read her emotions for him but he was confident that she’d been very worried. Because she must’ve sneaked off to Tobirama’s house at some point between meetings and other appointments to get the things to quickly hand them to Izuna just before he left the Tower. And she did so with an expression of gratitude and a request to make sure that the albino rested and didn’t touch anything work-related until he got better.

“Izuu…naa,” Tobirama’s hoarse voice quietly whined from the inside, effectively breaking him out of his thoughts.

Izuna cooed at him with a concerned and highly confused look, immediately letting go of Madara to get back inside.

His approaching chakra signature must’ve woken him then. Tobi once told him that while others had to actively try to sense, he had to put in effort not to so he wouldn’t overwhelm himself or cause a headache. 

Sensing all the time must be exhausting, he could only imagine, as he wasn’t a sensor type himself.

But why did he wake up? 

He hadn’t woken up when they had been in the same room since the albino had started to trust him.

Maybe he had missed him?

When he entered the room with a wry smile at his thought, he noticed that the sick man was motionless with his eyes shut. 

Had he talked in his sleep? Even so, Tobi usually tended to be a light sleeper as far as he had noticed. This was a bit odd.

“Nii-san, what’s with him?” he inquired concerned, looking back at his brother who had followed him back inside.

At his tone, Madara only scowled guiltily, sliding the shoji door shut behind him as it was getting colder.

“Oh no, what did you do to him?” Izuna demanded, slightly anxious.

His older brother huffed.

“I gave him some medicine back at the office because he was beginning to look even worse than he did in the first place. It was the dosage I had to take when I was sick because I reasoned that the symptoms aligned with mine and we’re roughly the same height,” he then offered him sheepishly.

“He’s way slimmer than you, though, and never had any Uchiha made medicine,” Izuna pointed out with a worried look.

That made the other pause and grimace slightly. 

“I didn’t know that he was so much slimmer and did not think of the latter at the time,” Madara admitted reluctantly. “But earlier he seemed kinda high-“

“Of course he’s going to get high if you overdose him like that,” he injected slightly exasperated.

Obviously he knew that his aniki meant well but still.

“He seemed fine other than the obvious wooziness,” his Nii-san offered.

“That at least doesn’t sound too bad,” the younger Uchiha mused, slightly relieved.

So, a woozy Tobirama, huh?

He couldn’t even imagine his friend drunk, never mind high. Why did he miss it? He’d have to ask his aniki about it after dinner.

Then he suddenly snorted.

Madara answered him with a confused grunt, and shot his younger sibling a questioning look.

“Well, it seems like you got to see the rare sight of a Dopey-rama thanks to your mistake,” he managed to get out before he broke off into laughter.

“Seriously?” the other intoned with a failed dry look, obviously trying not to show his apparent amusement.

“Awww come on, isn’t that a funny play on words?” he whined playfully.

“No.”

He didn’t buy that because he could see the slight tremors in the older Uchiha’s shoulders.

“You’re no fun, Nii-san,” he lamented with a playful pout.

Madara shrugged, amused. To which Izuna playfully stuck his tongue out.

“Alright, if you have the energy to come up with stupid jokes, go and get him a new change of clothes and feed him. Last time I had to touch him, he was soaked thanks to the fever,” the older Uchiha then demanded, trying to not break out into apparent laughter that would give him away.

As if he hadn’t already seen right through him, he thought bemused and got up to get a change of clothes.

When Izuna tried to exit the study, Hikaku almost ran straight into him.  
Nodding at each other cordially, they sidestepped and continued on to their respective goals.

The younger Uchiha wasn’t worried about their cousin entering the room in which his friend was asleep. The older man was trustworthy and calm. But most importantly, he didn’t hate Tobirama. One time he joined them for lunch and it hadn’t even been awkward nor did Hikaku say anything bad about the Senju heir after that. Not that he had said anything too bad before that to begin with but after that he seemed more open in matters concerning the Senju heir. So he considered that a win and his cousin safe enough.

Izuna hummed as he entered his brother’s room to look through his clothes. 

Should he get something warm? Or something light? Damn it, he should’ve checked Tobi’s body temperature first. If he had a high fever, something light would be better but if he only had a light fever, something warm would probably be nicer for him seeing as his base body temperature was lower thanks to his natural chakra affinity to water while almost all Uchiha ran warmer due to their fire nature. 

It was getting colder outside, too. 

Maybe he really should pick something warm? Or he could play it safe with a yukata and just cover his sick friend in more blankets if needed, he mused as his hands slid through the many different fabrics of Madara’s wardrobe to hopefully find one of his soft, dark blue yukata he liked to wear around the house. Where were they? None of them were here.

He sighed tiredly and opened the other side of the closet where his brother not so secretly hid the clean laundry he was too lazy to or too short on time to neatly fold instead and lo and behold, a clean but slightly bunched up, blue yukata out of soft cotton greeted him. Finally.

Next he exited the room to get a few things to help his friend get clean and heard the front door slide shut, loudly. 

Apparently Hikaku had already left. 

Was he mad? He scowled. 

Getting their cousin mad took a lot of time and effort because he was one of the few mild tempered people in their closer family. So that certainly was weird. It only would’ve made sense if Madara had done something exceptionally rash or obnoxious concerning their clan to warrant such behaviour in such a short time. But he couldn’t think of any clan matters right now that would fit that bill.

Dismissing the thought and sudden weird feeling that tried to overcome him, the Uchiha sighed and quietly vanished in the room with the towels to gather the last of the things to make his dear clean freak more comfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know why but I seriously do not like this chapter at all. 
> 
> Even back when I only had the beginning scene, I didn’t and finishing didn’t help either somehow.  
> Plus I really struggled writing it in general.
> 
> Who knows but I am glad I didn’t give up on it and can’t wait to reach the other scenes I have planned for the plot.
> 
> Meanwhile I hope this chapter hasn’t been too horrible but it was necessary as a bridge for what is going to happen next, I guess. And hopefully you didn’t mind the change in POV too much either.
> 
> \- 
> 
> Oh and in case you want to privately hit me up about any of my works or MadaTobi :>, please feel free to do so on [Tumblr](https://aurora-nuova.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/aurora_nuova)


	6. Care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: This is the reworked version of chapter 06 :>  
> (Only if you feel like it) I’d also advise to reread the reworked chapter 04 as well :>
> 
> I hope you enjoy this version! Please stay safe.

* * *

#### Chapter 6: Care

* * *

  


Pulling two soft towels out of a cupboard in the room adjoining their washroom, Izuna couldn’t have stifled the next yawn that overcame him even if he had actually tried.

But to be honest, he hadn’t even attempted to in the first place, being way too exhausted for the relatively early hour of the evening. He probably shouldn’t have joined his older brother for his early morning training at the asscrack of dawn and just stuck with his own routine later on in the day. At least he could’ve caught a few more hours of sleep that way.

Sue him, how had he been supposed to know that the day and especially the meetings today would be so draining and annoying?

_Every single one of them._

Tobirama’s absence had been glaringly obvious in their new, normally mostly smooth workflow they had adapted after they took office in the freshly founded Konoha.

Though unsurprisingly most people tended to think that their newly elected Hokage bore the brunt of the village work, they couldn’t be more wrong.

And today it had shown _massively._

Because in reality, Tobirama had his fingers in what felt like… _everything_. Seemingly micromanaging every project he could get his hands on like the anal, perfectionistic workaholic his friend tended to be, Izuna contemplated, fondly exasperated.

Starting with all of their peace treaties, the blueprints for the constantly expanding village and even the future education of Konoha’s children, down to pretty much doing his stupid elder brother’s actual work most of the time. Just to name a few of the many things he busied himself with on a daily basis.

Just because the pale Senju didn’t call attention to all of his work and thus most people didn’t see much of him when he worked—seeing how Tobirama usually was all over the place, monitoring everything, keeping to the shadows and shutting himself into his office way into the night to finish huge piles of paperwork— paradoxically seemed to lead people to believe that he wasn’t actually too important in the greater scheme of things.

Out of sight, out of mind, he guessed annoyed with a roll of his eyes.

But even with Mito-hime trying her best to find suitable workers to relegate Tobirama’s work to and the founding members taking over the confidential and most important paperwork and meetings, not even one whole day of unplanned absence had already plunged huge parts of their system into small chaos. Especially their leader and his office being one of the biggest offenders in that department, which only cemented his uselessness in the Uchiha heir’s eyes.

He sighed.

Alright, maybe that had been a little bit harsh but the sheer stupidity and disorganization of the day had left him plenty bitter.

Honestly, the young Uchiha couldn’t decide what had been the worst stupidity of the day.

The Sarutobi clan demanding to live in actual tree houses like some type of weird humanoid monkeys—after Tobi had to stubbornly explain to their Hokage over and over again why Konoha couldn’t consist of just tree houses and why people, especially civilians, wouldn’t want to and couldn’t live in them in the first place, back at the beginning, when Konoha had only existed on the many different map drafts, the Senju heir had drafted—or that last meeting with the Haruno merchant Clan in which their absentminded Hokage somehow succeeded in insulting said clan because he hadn’t read about their customs and traditions in his info dossier.

Of course, on top of that he had completely forgotten the impending meeting in the first place and had to be reminded by his wife to not be late or to even make an appearance. No, even worse, he hadn’t deigned to inform anyone of his lost meeting dossier his younger brother had diligently prepared for him, and instead had tried to wing it. Which obviously would’ve ended in complete disaster if not for the Uzumaki princess’ intervention.

What an utter fool. Hadn’t he learned that most of the clans had different customs by now?

_Seriously?_

The Uchiha heir sighed aggravated, clutching the towels under his free arm.

Scratch that, he knew which was the worst, definitely the last one. Especially when he considered the-

Suddenly their front door loudly slid open and closed again. He halted his movements and blinked slowly.

Weird.

Had Hikaku come back? Or had Madara and Tobirama possibly started fighting? He wondered, leaning his head out into the hallway to better listen for sounds that could clue him in, since he didn’t have a clear view to his Aniki’s study from the room he was standing in. The Byakugan’s ability to look through walls would’ve been utterly delightful right about now, he noted absently.

The younger Uchiha’s anxious feeling came back when he suddenly faintly could make out his brother’s voice, the one he only used when in distress. But he couldn’t make out what he was saying.

Alright, he could admit that he was back to worrying, as he tried to not run back to Madara’s study and get laughed at for overreacting. He definitely must be overreacting, right? But the weird, anxious feeling he had, didn’t budge an inch.

He repeated his internal mantra of ‘Don’t run, walk slowly. This is nothing, you’ll see. You’ll just make yourself look like an overprotective fool thanks to your tiredness’ as he embarrassingly failed to stop himself from at least turning his steps into a jog.

Whatever. He had a weird feeling and wouldn’t take any chances. Let his Aniki laugh at him, he thought, as he rounded the corner back to the study in a hurry.

Had the inevitable fight between his brother and friend he had been dreading so much when he had come back home finally started? Had his brother maybe socked the sick Senju in a moment of rage? Hopefully not, he thought grimacing. His brother undoubtedly would be deeply ashamed of himself for uncharacteristically dishing out against a sick, vulnerable person. But he knew how mad his brother got at Tobi all the time.

Finally the Uchiha heir arrived in front of the door, almost slipping and falling on his butt in his distracted, barefooted slide. Already present beginnings of dread in his stomach only getting worse, when he heard the commotion inside.

What was going on?

In fact, Izuna could say with absolute certainty that he hadn’t expected what he encountered, when he hastily slid the shoji door open.

Not only were both his Aniki and Hikaku in the room, but an additional back greeted him. Judging from the set of shoulders, it was a woman with long, dark hair that looked like it had been haphazardly tied into a messy bun. A lot of strands slipping from the hair tie, he noticed absently in his confusion.

“-overdosed him with the medicine I had left!” His older brother’s troubled voice registered in his ears as he ground out the statement at the additional person in the room.

“The one from the virus that is still rampaging through our district?” a firm, female voice asked him calmly in a professional voice.

_Oh_

He immediately recognized the voice as Naori, their clan healer who also took care of the orphaned Kagami. He belatedly realized that his brain must’ve been horribly lagging for him to take so long to recognize her.

“Yes!” Madara screeched, slow beginnings of panic visibly rising, hand brushing his bangs away in distress.

“Calm down, cousin,” the female Uchiha retorted unruffled, shifting on her knees in front of him.

Izuna couldn’t help but to keep staring blankly, stunned as she seemed to adjust someth-

_Tobirama_

She was cradling his friend’s upper body in her arms, rubbing his back soothingly. Unfortunately due to the perspective, he couldn’t make out much of the albino, except for some of his white hair and a limp, single arm.

Ice water settled in his veins and he immediately paled. What happened? Was he unconscious?

“How am I to calm down?!” Madara abruptly grabbed fistfuls of hair in his hands, helplessly yanking at them, as he leaned back. “Hashirama and Izuna are going to murder me because I probably fucking poisoned the bastard on accident!” his brother bellowed, with uncharacteristically unsure eyes, kneeling in front of her.

Finally the realization and his name being mentioned jarred the Uchiha heir right out of his stunned state of shock.

“The hell happened?” he interjected, the worry hitting him head on, as he let the towels and clothes in his hands slide to the floor and hurried over to their female clan member supporting his best friend.

At last, everyone seemed to notice his arrival and his Nii-san immediately shot him a guilt laden look.

“He suddenly started choking so I sent Hikaku for Naori.”

Now Izuna also took real notice of Hikaku who was busying himself with bundling up the bedding left on the futon. Why was he-

“Wait. What do you mean by ‘choking’?!” the youngest Uchiha demanded as his brain finally processed the information and he shot his brother a confused look, his heart leaping into his throat.

Naori must’ve noticed his worry.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” she assured him, shooting him a sympathetic look. “Apparently Tobirama-kun was simply sleeping on his back when he started throwing up and thankfully your brother was next to him, to turn him on his side, when he started making choking sounds.”

His eyes widened. He hadn’t expected that.

“Don’t worry, it’s not unusual for children and the elderly to sometimes vomit with this kind of virus because it affects them more,” the female offered. “We just need to clean him up for now and-“

“But he falls under neither of those two categories!” Madara interrupted her exasperated.

His brother was a flailing mess, he noticed, looking like he was about to throw up himself in his fit. Was the notion of breaking his promise to Izuna making him so upset?

“Well, yes, but according to the newest research available, he still falls under the category of patient groups that show worse symptoms of illnesses than most because he has albinism and thus his body is more susceptible,” she explained with a voice, she usually reserved for explaining difficult things to little Kagami.

Both of the Uchiha brothers surprisingly chose to not address her choice of tone but Hikaku failed to stifle a snort.

Though that too got ignored in the face of the situation.

Thank kami that his brother had kept his promise to stay with Tobi then, Izuna thought anxiously, as he sighed, attempting to release some of the pent up tension in his body. Worry still unpleasantly churning in his stomach. His friend would’ve probably choked otherwise.

Naori’s warm, charcoal eyes slid back over to him and Izuna immediately offered his arms to the woman to take over his friend, when she gently handed the sick and limp Senju to him.  
He honestly couldn’t care less if he got sick on himself while holding the other. Tobi’s wellbeing was his priority right now, he decided as he securely wrapped his arms around the pale, barely conscious man. It was his fault that he was in unfamiliar territory while this sick after all.

“Well, that or our dear Mada-shishou really overdosed him to the extend of the poor guy almost vomiting himself to death,” the clan healer offered jokingly, using Kagami’s nickname to soften her statement.

The Uchiha clan head immediately spluttered and Izuna only could gape at her in cautious bewilderment, gripping the too warm body in his arms a little tighter. Even Hikaku stopped bundling the bedding and abruptly looked over to them.

“How-“

“Wha-“

“Oh relax, guys! New parents tend to misjudge doses of different kinds of medicine all the time,” she interrupted both of them bemused, probably already too used to fretting parents to really be bothered by their panicked behaviour.

Admittedly though, Izuna wasn’t so surprised at her calmness anymore when he actually gave his overwhelmed and tired brain—that was still halfway in panic mode—a bit more time to think some more about it.

She was right. Tobirama suddenly throwing up, let alone hearing him choke, must’ve been horrible to anyone present, especially the Senju heir himself if he had been conscious enough, but seeing how Naori had been a battlefield medic in the war, maybe it truly did seem like a minor thing to her, seeing how he hadn’t actually died?

That, or she was trying to calm them down by acting as the grounding force for their flailing personalities, as she was wont to do since their childhood when she had started to act as something akin to an older sister who babysat them.

In fact, the latter would make more sense, because she usually tended to be a rather empathetic person. In addition, the youngest Uchiha in the room was privy to the information that she hesitantly respected and even began seeing Tobirama in a better light not too long ago. The former thanks to his battlefield prowess and intellect, the latter because he was so good with Kagami and the little brat adored the Senju, thinking he hung the moon and stars. Leading to the two adults seeing each other whenever the albino had time to humour the little Uchiha with any kind of teachings and Naori came to pick up the little imp so the younger Senju didn’t have to wander into the Uchiha district, probably scaring half the clan to death.

Orphaned Uchiha children always had tended to be a very familial matter in their clan because they viewed each other as an extended family. Normally the children in question would get a main caretaker, like Kagami with Naori had, and whenever said caretaker was unavailable, the rest of the clan would pitch in, like a closely knit family. Even his older brother and he himself helped out whenever they could.

And while that was the case with Kagami as well—the little rascal wasn’t disliked by far, he was much too cute—unfortunately though he tended to have a bit too much energy and a few too many questions about everything in his repertoire for most of the exasperated adults supervising him who thus would tend to try to brush him and his questioning off. Unknown to many, Tobirama though truly delighted in little Kagami being so curious and humoured him as much as his little free time would allow him to.

“That being said, I have something I can give him so his body deconstructs the medicine faster,” the healer declared with an assuring smile as she grabbed something out of her bag that the Uchiha heir hadn’t even noticed in his distress, was lying next to her.

“This should do the trick, he’ll be fine,” she exclaimed, showing them a small jar filled with some kind of fluid and a syringe. “Just hold him down for me.”

Izuna swallowed as Hikaku respectfully left the room with the sullied blankets and pillows, likely to give them a thorough wash.

“I’m not supposed to talk about it but,” he haltingly offered, shooting the top of Tobirama’s head a guilty look.

Two expectant pairs of black eyes met his, when he looked back up.

“Tobi’s not really comfortable with healers and the like...” Izuna trailed off, slowly.

Recognition shone in his Aniki’s eyes while their medic shot him a surprised look.

“Oh. Healers in general or-“

“Yes and especially people holding him down is-“

He grimaced.

“Change of plans then,” Naori immediately interrupted him, probably to save him from breaking his promise any further.

“Izuna, you give him a loving and all encompassing, tight hug with assuring words,” she offered helpfully with a bemused smile.

He gave her a bemused smile back.

“And I’ll try to give him the shot. Thankfully he’s not fully conscious and hopefully won’t notice or remember too much. The discomfort of a little prick shouldn’t be too alarming to a shinobi of his caliber. But if he wakes up, I’ll immediately distance myself from him.”

He nodded at her. They didn’t have a choice if Tobi was to feel better, did they?

“Wait, what about me? What should I do?” Madara immediately demanded much calmer than he would’ve been five minutes ago but rather miffed, probably feeling left out.

The female levelled him with an exasperated and bemused look.

“You, my dear cousin, are going to take your fiery and guilty energy, that is rolling off of you in waves, and yourself out of this room and will make tea for all of us.”

The eldest Uchiha immediately spluttered and flailed, deeply offended.

“How dare-“

“Seriously, it’s precious how ruffled you are but you’re making me anxious and I don’t even want to attempt to imagine what a discomforting mess your chakra must feel like after what just happened and how unconsciously anxious it probably is making our feverish and woozy natural Sensor patient.”

The healer huffed a laugh when the other’s face turned red from stunned, embarrassed offence. All of them knew how much she loved to use their short temper against them to rile them up for harmless fun.

“I saw rice in his vomit, what did you give him to eat and do you have more?” she immediately added in a professional tone, too used to his excessive reactions when with people he trusted.

“Okayu, yes,” Madara huffed out grumpy and garnered himself a highly amused look from her.

Had his brother really specifically made food the sick albino could benefit from? A warm, fond feeling overcame him and his shoulders relaxed a bit more.

“Perfect, heat up a small portion of that, too.” At that point, her voice was unmistakably shaky, trying not to laugh at his older brother.

Obviously their cousin too knew about his Aniki’s and Tobi’s problems, much like anyone else in their growing village and thus must’ve been amused over his uncharacteristic worry for the Senju heir and the fact that he would go out of his way to make the food even though he loved to highlight how much he detested the other.

“All those things on an empty stomach will likely only lead to even more vomiting and I’m honestly not sure if he kept anything from earlier down,” she offered, already back in professional mode.

Izuna grimaced, sympathetically.

The clan head opened his mouth but surprisingly quickly shut it, as he turned around to do what had been asked of him.

  


* * *

  


“Alright,” his cousin huffed, as she retied her hair in a slightly cleaner bun, after too many strands had escaped their binding’s grip.

They had managed to administer the shot without too big of an uproar, likely because the albino really had still been hazy and barely conscious but Izuna still felt bad that he had went against his friend’s wishes. He surely would understand, though, right?

Said friend was resting on the fresh futon, already cleaned and changed into his Aniki’s soft, blue yukata with his cousin’s help, Izuna tiredly lying next to him on the tatami mats lining the study and the Uchiha woman rummaging through her bag, as their clan head came back with tea and food. Hikaku had already excused himself back home to his wife after bringing new bedding and wishing Tobirama well.

Madara sat down slowly and started to situate the food and drink on the lower table, sighing.

“I was tucking Kagami in when Hikaku came to get me,” the only female in the room started conversing. “For a second there, I thought his wife was going into labour but this was no lesser surprise. Never would’ve guessed that I’ll be called here for Tobirama-kun,” Naori offered to lighten the mood, taking a sip of her tea.

“I wasn’t trying to kill him,” his brother stated slowly.

Their cousin snorted crudely, thankfully after she had swallowed.

“Don’t worry, I don’t think anybody of us would expect you to be dumb enough to off him like that in your own home. Not even your best friend,” she giggled, apparently trying to make him feel less guilty in her own way.

That only got her an unamused, tired huff.

“Oh, I can’t wait until you have kids or a partner. You’re going to be so entertaining when they get sick!” she added, as she grabbed one of the inarizushi Izuna had bought for his Aniki with her chopsticks off of the plate on the table. “You can be such a worry wart.”

His older brother shot her a withering glare, dampened slightly by his guilt.

They probably must’ve bickered some more after Izuna had turned his back to them to keep Tobi better company. But the youngest Uchiha wasn’t too sure because he must’ve had his eyes closed for longer then he had intended. The next thing he felt, was a calloused but gentle hand on his ankle, softly shaking it, successfully startling him out of his daze. Had they called his name or tried to talk to him?

He hummed inquiringly.

“Tough and tiring day at work, Izu?” Naori asked bemused, letting go of his ankle.

“Horrible,” he lamented, turning his head back around to the both of them, leaning up on his elbow to better squint at them from his lying position.

“Ah, come on then. Eat and tell us all about it.”

Good idea. A bit of distraction from the earlier commotion would do them good and office shenanigans and complaints were always a good subject to complain about. After all, his brother had missed out on a lot today.

“And afterwards you can go and take a bath with Madara because you look exhausted. The both of you. Meanwhile I’ll feed and keep an eye on the patient for a bit. Wouldn’t want him to start choking again.”

“Sounds good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: This chapter, wheew, what a ride. I’m glad I finished it.
> 
> I worked it over after your and additional feedback, thank you!
> 
> Btw I ‘borrowed’ Uchiha Naori from the anime even though I’m not even sure when she was born. She was wearing the konoha head band, though.
> 
> Written as "治り", Naori means "recovery" and I thought the meaning fit the character that I needed to tackle the healer topic with well.
> 
> Hope you don’t mind and as always, feel free to throw any critique and comments at me! :>
> 
> -
> 
> Oh and in case you want to privately hit me up about any of my works or MadaTobi :>, please feel free to do so on [Tumblr](https://aurora-nuova.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/aurora_nuova)


	7. In the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hashirama and Mito are finally making an appearance :>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! :>
> 
> Until a few minutes ago I had added the new chapter at the end of Chapter 06 for a better flow and continuity after some feedback but it seems _people got super confused_ **so just have the new chapter uh normally as chapter 07**.
> 
> _Chapter 06 now is only the reworked version of the original version._
> 
> _Additionally, I reworked Chapter 04 (Dopeyrama) and added in background info, so things now make more sense._

* * *

#### Chapter 7: In the dark

* * *

  


Stifling an annoyed grunt, Madara finished messily tying up the huge and wild mass of his unruly hair so he could start cleaning up without getting it wet. The older Uchiha definitely wasn’t in the mood to invest the extra time needed to wash that much hair today and it didn’t seem too likely that his younger brother would help him sort the mess out either.

He chanced a glance from the corners of his eyes at said brother who had already sat down and currently was in the process of pouring hot water over himself. 

Well, at least Izuna didn’t seem horribly upset or furious or they would’ve already butted heads what with both their tempers, he guessed. Though that didn’t mean he could reliably rule out that his sibling wasn’t at least moderately upset or disappointed at him because the younger man had started to give him the silent treatment since back when Madara had come back with the refreshments and food. They hadn’t even exchanged one word up until now. Which could mean two things: either he really was just that tired or he was purposely ignoring him.

Honestly, he wouldn’t be too surprised if it was the latter. What with him almost ending the other’s friend’s life. He definitely hadn’t done it on purpose but with how the albino and he fought daily it probably wouldn’t be too outrageous to think he had.

Alright, he just had to figure out which it was. 

Though if you asked him, it wasn’t his fault in the first place that the asshole Senju was trying his damn hardest to sabotage the Uchiha Clan Head in his attempt to repay him.

Seriously. _Almost choking to death?_ Could the icicle get any more creative?

At first Madara had thought the guy was relapsing into one of his weird, subdued coughing fits he had been having on and off over the day, but when he had started to wheeze like his life depended on it, fortunately the Uchiha had clued in on the Senju choking. And when he had rushed over, leaving Hikaku’s side, the younger man had some sick trickle out of his mouth. Of course he had tried to get the vomit that had tried to end the other out of the wrong pipe through back blows and chest thrusts, like one was supposed to do. 

Obviously he wasn’t a clueless idiot, seeing how he regularly babysat Kagami and had looked after Izuna and his other younger siblings when they had been little. After all, it was a well known fact that children loved to stick things into their mouths and choke, especially those lively, little rascals, so he had been more than prepared to calmly free the other’s airways.

Only when nothing seemed to work because apparently the asshole had been in the midst of still throwing up _and_ choking, all the while turning a shade that had been odd even for his unusual complexion, did Madara start to slightly panic and had sent Hikaku for their healer. 

Izuna had asked him for one thing only: Keep an eye on Tobirama.

And Madara had failed him even in that single regard because he had been talking to Hikaku and had kept on ignoring the weird little noises the pale asshole had been making until it had almost been too late. Just because he hadn’t wanted to embarrass himself in front of their cousin by acting concerned over a guy he couldn’t stand. No way would he tarnish his own fierce reputation like that. 

His own pride probably would be the end of him someday, huh? Quickly he dismissed that particular thought, though.

Speaking of death, what an undignified death that would’ve been for a shinobi of their caliber to die choking on their own vomit in bed. They were supposed to die honourable deaths on the battle field against strong opponents, not choke on vomit. Even the pale bastard had earned himself that right. 

He grimaced. 

Back to his possible problem at hand.

“Can you hand me the soap?” Madara inquired toneless to test the waters.

Izuna handed him the soap, wordlessly and turned back around, continuing to wash his hair.

Well, that hadn’t been a helpful indicator at all. He closed his eyes, to hide his annoyed eye roll. That stubborn brat. Maybe he should reintroduce him to their new pond? It didn’t sound too bad but probably a bad idea right now.

When he had finished washing and finally let one of his feet slide into the soothingly hot water, Izuna started to dry himself off and put his sleeping yukata on. Madara shot him a confused look, halting his other movements; his other leg still on the floor.

“I’m gonna skip out on taking a bath today,” the younger man informed him with a tired huff and left the room with a slide of the door.

Okay?

Normally they would use the chance when both of them were home and hadn’t taken a bath yet to do so and spend some quality time together. Now that he thought about it more, the Uchiha Clan Head realized that they hadn’t even helped each other wash their backs. Weird. Maybe his brother indeed was mad at him?

He huffed annoyed.

Well, whatever. Izuna probably went back to the icicle.

Hadn’t Madara himself been the one to tell his Otouto that the Senju would be his responsibility once the other came home? That and the older Uchiha had more than gained the right to take his bath in peace. Let his brother deal with that nuisance. Plus, he really could use some relaxation after the unusual day he had. He groaned exasperated with himself and the direction of his thoughts and slipped into the water.

As soon as his muscles had eased up a bit with the help of the surrounding heat, he too dried himself off and returned to his study in his own sleeping yukata, where Naori was packing up the rest of her things while Izuna slept next to the snowflake on the floor. He should wake him up so he wouldn’t catch a cold.

“I had already worried that you might’ve drowned yourself to escape the situation,” the woman quipped all chipper.

“Screw you, too,” he retorted drily. The woman snorted.

“Jokes aside, do you want me to inform you about everything before I go?”

“Might as well.” He crossed his arms.

“Before I can give you guys a new medicine for him I’ll have to come back tomorrow because I need him conscious for a few questions and such to confirm his symptoms.”

He nodded.

“But what I could figure out earlier is that it does look like he has many symptoms of the virus that’s going around in our district.”

At that Madara graced her with a hum to signal, he still was listening.

“Also it would be nice if you could get lots of nutrients into him so he can regain some weight and his chakra is pretty much close to void, so he obviously shouldn’t use it,” she listed, holding up two fingers.

“Huh, that’s weird,” the older mused.

“Why so?”

“Why would he have lost weight or used up his chakra? As far as I’m concerned he hadn’t been on any missions recently, hence why I regrettably had to see his icy face everyday lately,” Madara grumbled out.

“Dunno, all I know is that he was rather skinny when I put some ointment and bandages on that ugly bruise and when I ran the standard checkup, I had to concentrate to feel his chakra. Aren’t you a good sensor?” She offered with a wry grin.

He scowled at her but tried to sense that icy cool chakra. 

_Oh_.

Well, now it made sense why he hadn’t been able to pinpoint the albino’s exact position back at the office. The sick man’s chakra indeed was unusually low, even lying not 10 feet away. Masking it while asleep surely wasn’t another of his extra abilities, right?

He grunted in agreement of his findings. 

“Alright, so I’m leaving this with you.” His cousin pointed at a small, wooden container on the table in front of her with a bemused tilt to her mouth. “It’s an ointment for any breathing difficulties he may encounter when the medicine starts to wear off. Just rub it on his chest. Don’t worry, you can’t overdose him on it.”

Madara scoffed annoyed at her and she giggled.

“And this fever reducer. Give it to him in a cup of water if his fever gets too high before I’ll come back.” At that she dangled a medicine envelope made out of paper in front of her, before she put it back down to pick up her bag.

“See you tomorrow, cousin,” she finally added smugly, heartily clapping him on the back, when she passed him to go home.

What an irritating woman. Well, at least she hadn’t graced him with even more extra comments in that last part.

Sneering, he looked over to the other irritating person in the room, currently passed out next to his brat of a brother. Time to get the two children to bed. 

He got up and abruptly nudged Izuna’s foot with his own. 

“Wake up.”

“Hn?”

“Get up and get into bed,” the Clan Head demanded.

“I’ll sleep here.” His brother curled in on himself even more. “With Tobi.”

Madara bit his lip to stop his sarcasm laced reply. Izuna wasn’t awake enough to get his joke. Useless. He’d probably even use the distraction to fall back asleep. That wouldn’t do, as he too wanted to go to bed after the weird day he just had. 

Peaceful times allowed him a lot of luxurious things like sleep, so he got used to rise and go to bed early. In fact, early morning was his favourite time of day. Most of the idiots and bothersome elders still asleep, Izuna safe, snoring inside his own room, birdsong and a steaming cup of tea his only companions, after a satisfying round of morning katas and some training. Truly delightful. 

That reminded him. He wanted to go to bed half an hour ago, damn it!

“No, get up and prepare a futon in your room for the asshole,” he growled and stepped over the slumped form of his Otouto to hopefully lift said asshole without any incidents. 

His brat of a brother, though, didn’t move an inch and wrapped his arms around one of his legs and whined instead.

“Let go or do you want to carry him instead?” Madara snapped down at his sibling.

That got him another petulant whine but also the freedom of his leg. Izuna got up slowly and sleepily stuck out his tongue at him. Eyes not even open.

“Watch it or I’ll drag you into your room myself, holding onto that.” Was his growling answer that got him a playful pout before the brat got up and finally left the room with dragging feet.

It wasn’t as if he had tried to be mean but he knew from experience that the menace would be lulled back into sleep if he used a softer voice. Izuna tended to be a heavy sleeper when he knew Madara was home. Waking him up if there wasn’t some kind of emergency was a royal pain in the ass. One day he would just let him sleep in, watch him be late to work to teach him a lesson, he promised himself for the nth time.

Squatting, the Uchiha looked down at the sleeping albino. Lying on his side, a pillow Izuna must’ve given him, tucked under his chin and clutched to his chest, it honestly was unfair how handsome the other looked when he was so sick. His face was even squished into the surface of another one of his sibling’s colourful pillows, he had laid under the Senju’s head. 

Sure, he didn’t look healthy, what with his splotchy complexion after he had thrown up and almost choked, sweat already coating him everywhere, well, at least the parts that were visible; but the Uchiha himself had looked like a fresh corpse while sick with that same virus without an extra helping of vomiting. Well, it had scored him some extra care and nice gestures from his precious people but still. The point stood: Unfair. 

He frowned and abruptly stopped his hand when he noticed that he had been unconsciously reaching out to touch the other’s face. Bloody fires of Amaterasu, no! Instead roughly grabbing the edge of one of the blankets to lift it off, he shot the scrunched up face an angered scowl.

After a small struggle with the sleeping younger man who weakly gripped the pillow and blankets like his life depended on it, the Uchiha’s eyes widened. 

He would strangle Izuna as soon as he got the chance. Or definitely dunk him in their new koi pond. There weren’t any koi in it to nibble on him yet but that shouldn’t be a problem, right?

Getting all of the blankets off of the Senju, in fact, brought to light that his little ass of a brother had dressed the ice prince in his favourite midnight blue yukata. Madara glared at the wall in the direction of the other’s bedroom. No wonder he hadn’t been able to find it before his bath.

A hoarse whine brought his attention back to the shivering, sick man, still clutching the pillow and curling into himself, dressed in Madara’s beloved garment. 

Though he had to admit that the dark blue was a truly pleasant contrast to the pale skin of the albino. It was darker than the usual shade of blue the younger Senju seemed to prefer for his armour and other pieces of clothing, on the admittedly rare occasion, the other didn’t wear his all black ensemble. If he had been a mushy idiot in love, he probably would’ve made embarrassing comparisons to the moon and night sky or something equally horrible. He wasn’t but he still could take a moment to appreciate the view before he picked him up to carry him over to Izuna’s room, pillow included. Hopefully the brat had finished setting up the futon.

Entering Izuna’s bedroom thankfully showed that said brat indeed was listlessly but dutifully finishing setting up a pillow and blankets. Thus he consciously let his steps be heard to not startle him and put the man in his arms down onto the guest futon with the help of the younger Uchiha.

After Madara had gone to get his own bedding which had earned him a confused look, he leaned back on his elbows on his own now made futon and watched his younger sibling’s back in silence.

His Otouto was lying on his side between him and the snowflake, caressing the other’s shoulder after he had situated a cool, wet rag over the sick man’s forehead, mumbling things he couldn’t make out because the Clan Head wasn’t willing to get any closer to the Senju. So what? Sue him.

In all honesty, the only reason he would be trying to sleep in the same room with them, subjecting himself to his sibling’s light snoring and the albino’s raspy breathing and coughs was because two pairs of eyes and ears were better than one to look out for the sick bastard but more importantly he still didn’t trust the asshole all alone with his deeply sleeping, vulnerable brother with his shinobi atypical deep sleep at home. 

Yes, the guy was sick but all those years of Izuna fighting the cunning asshole made them realize that one should never underestimate the White Demon of the Senju. His Otouto’s scarred side was proof enough of that. Madara didn’t have the right to decide whom his little brother should associate himself with; a hard lesson learned thanks to two rather big fights they’ve had about said subject already and the Senju had yet to break his word to not hurt Izuna but he wouldn’t take any chances. Not with his last brother whom he swore to protect at all costs.

Disregarding that, watching that soft display in front of him, had his skin itch and his stomach feel weird. 

The brat usually wasn’t this openly affectionate and mushy with anyone in front of him. Lest he’d be made fun of. Obviously Madara didn’t know how his brother acted in privacy or behind closed doors with his intended, he wasn’t a creep, alright? But Madara was right next to them. Eww. He had a bad feeling about this. What if his Otouto and the Senju… he grimaced. 

“Izuna?” Madara exclaimed almost hesitant.

His little brother hummed, still facing Tobirama. 

“Are you..,” he cut himself off, scowling.

Normally it didn’t feel this awkward to ask his sibling about these things. It definitely did now, though. But there was no way around this, was there?

“Yeah?” the other offered quietly.

“Do you have, you know… feelings for him?” Madara grimaced. He hoped he had been able to keep any resentment out of his voice. 

“Who?” his brother’s confused voice reached his ears.

“The icy bastard in front of you?”

A snort startled him, as Izuna looked over his shoulder at him in a mix of surprise and confusion.

“What? No!” The younger man scrunched up his nose, as if he had just caught Madara balls deep in some romantic interest. “What makes you think that?!”

“You can tell me, I’ll even try to not be mad. I promise.” He offered with the calmest, most understanding voice he could muster right now. Which wasn’t all too promising if he was honest but the thought counted, right?

Madara would try to accept it if it made his brother happy. At least he attempted to convince himself, taking deep breaths to not let his temper loose, like he had in most of their fights. More like almost all of them but whatever. Unimportant, little details.

Izuna gave him an incredulous, weirded out look and crinkled his nose.

“Wha-“ Rubbing his eye, as if to test if he was already fast asleep, he took a second look at his older brother’s crumbling smile, that was bordering on a grimace, judging from the stiff muscles he could feel in his face. “Okay…Thank you but seriously, I don’t have any romantic feelings for him, he’s more like a younger brother to me.”

Relieved, Madara abruptly released the breath he had been holding to reign in his temper.

“Thank all the gods abo-“

Wait.

“Younger brother?” Madara blanched. “I thought he was much older than you?” This time he was the one shooting the other an incredulous, confused look.

“No, we’re born the same year but his birthday is nine days after mine. So that makes him younger, if only by a few days but still! Every day counts!” Izuna proclaimed with a smug grin.

He could’ve sworn the albino was older than Izuna. The icicle gave off such a grave aura. Not to mention his serious and sharp features?! Even his eyes seemed much older than any of the konoha founders’. Of course all of them had seen horrible things but Tobirama just seemed so…well, worn and old, to put it bluntly. Like a tall, old oak or something akin to that.  
Senju genes apparently made it’s people grow like actual trees it seemed. Well shit, wow.

“You didn’t answer my question, Nii-san,” Izuna whined, startling him out of his thoughts.

Huh? _Oh, right._ What gave him the idea that Izuna had feelings for the other.

“Because you’re lying there with him like..Ah...All cozy and familiar and ugh-“ He winced, waving his one arm as if to say: ‘This right there.’

“Seriously? _You_ are judging _me_?” His brother shot him an unimpressed, annoyed look.

“What’s _that_ even supposed to mean?”

“There’s a secret, still open betting pool on whether you and tree brain run away into the sunset together or not,” Izuna replied disgusted.

“WHAT?!”

“Shush, you’re going to wake Tobi!” Izuna yell whispered, sluggishly hitting his shoulder.

“Shush yourself, you’re not any better!” He pushed his little brother away from himself. “How dare you imply Hashirama and I-“ He couldn’t even finish that horrible sentence nor thought. 

Izuna just cackled and turned back to the albino.

“Oi, brat, what are you caressing him for then, huh?!”

“Eww, stop it! I’m just patting his shoulder, not making out with him!”

“Could’ve fooled me with that soft- bah!”

“Oh shut up, what do you want me to do, hit him? He hurts all over, of course I’m not going to be rough with him when I try to comfort him because he’s pretty much helpless, surrounded by his past enemy.” 

Madara couldn’t see his brother’s eyes anymore but he didn’t have to. The eye-roll was pretty clear with the tone of his voice.

“Weren’t you the one who tried to convince me that he didn’t hate-“

Izuna’s tired groan cut him of.

“Yes and he doesn’t hate our clan but fevers make your head mushy.”

He hummed, well, true.

“And I hate to remind you but you were rambling on about the war when you were sick, too. I just want to avoid any unnecessary drama,” his Otouto mumbled tired as he shifted into a more comfortable position.

“Alright.”

Eventually the rustling stopped and shortly after Izuna must’ve fallen asleep because the next time he called his name, he didn’t answer.

Amazing, he himself was wide awake now.

Sighing, Madara grabbed first one, then the other side of his head to crack his neck. Better. But it didn’t calm him down in the slightest. The nervous energy still washed through him. How irritating..

Glancing over to Izuna and the ice prince didn’t help either. Obviously he knew what or better who the problem was: The Senju. 

Frankly speaking, he doubted that the other would’ve been able to sleep this peacefully without his ailments either. At least judging from their past, sleepless but admittedly few joint missions at the start of Konoha’s creation. Neither of them had even took a nap back then. So it wasn’t too surprising.

Kicking off the blanket off of the left side of his body in Izuna’s direction, he prepared himself for very little, if any sleep at all. Great.

Though he must’ve fallen asleep at some point after many failed attempts and a few hours of being lost in his thoughts because suddenly he startled awake.

His sleep addled mind tried to make sense of the situation. In what felt like minutes but probably had been seconds, he realized: he was lying with his leg thrown over his little brother who was snoring and-

Oh.

Choking!

Shit no no no.

Not again.

Madara immediately startled up into a sitting position, throwing his upper body on top of his younger brother the rest of the way in his haste to reach the pale bastard which got him an unhappy grunt and whine.

“Heavy….” Izuna whined half asleep, halfheartedly shoving at his older brother to get him off.

The older Uchiha grunted irritated when he realized that it apparently just had been clogged airways that made it hard to breath, the ass wasn’t throwing up again. 

He sagged in annoyed relief on top of his brother.

“What’s happening?” Izuna asked sleepily below him, apparently having given up the hope to wrestle Madara off of himself.

“I thought he was relapsing and heaving again.”

“Oh shit, good you stayed here, I didn’t even notice.” Suddenly awake eyes stared at him.

Well, it looked like he was getting a bit paranoid, even in his sleep, after his last mishap. Better safe than sorry, though. Dying a gruesome death by Hashirama’s hands or tears for killing his last sibling didn’t sound like a fun pastime. 

“I’m gonna go and get some of that herbal ointment to free his airways, you can go back to sleep.” The Clan Head slowly sat up, adrenaline still pumping through him. A little walk to his office would hopefully calm him down enough to fall back asleep again. Judging by the colour of the sky outside it looked like there wasn’t much time for sleep anymore.

“I can rub it on his chest if you want?” Izuna proposed yawning.

“Alright” Stifling his own yawn he got up out of bed.

Unfortunately his heart was still hammering and his blood rushing through his ears when he came back with said ointment.

  


* * *

  


The slow realization of a hand patting his cheek gradually woke him up.

“-ii-san. Nii-san, wake up,” a familiar voice whispered next to his face.

He opened his eyes blearily to look at Izuna’s face. Was it morning already? Squinting his eyes, he groaned exhausted. He probably had slept what? Half an hour to an hour at best. Closing his dry eyes, he pulled the blanket over his face.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t pulled countless all-nighters in his life. He just wasn’t used to them anymore like he had been. And usually not sleeping at all instead of sleeping for only a few minutes usually felt less horrible as well. He should’ve just foregone any sleep at all and gotten some work done or something. Peace times apparently had made him used to a healthy dosage of sleep. 

“You look exhausted, do you want me to cancel your meetings?” his sibling offered, slowly dragging the blanket back down.

“No, they’re important. I’ll take a nap when I’ll come back.”

“Alright but at least let me brush your hair for you, it looks like something exploded in your face.” He could picture the grin his sibling probably was wearing.

Squinting one eye open revealed that Izuna indeed was grinning down at him.

“Screw you,” he grumbled tiredly, closing his eye and didn’t back it up with another retort, for once letting the jab slide. 

Even the short amount he had been able to sleep had been horrible, caught in a fitful half-sleep, waking at every bad cough the albino made, thinking he had a relapse. Intermingled with sleep-like dreams that he had actually killed the other. Hashirama and Izuna looming over him, disappointed, making him leave their village or even worse, the younger Senju cruelly ending Izuna’s life.

  


Making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything from his mental list of things to bring to work, Madara almost slipped on one of the dewy roof tiles on his way to work. What a stupid rookie mistake. Grumbling, he cursed the asshole Senju who had been sleeping when he had left him with Izuna. It was his fault. All of it.

Huffing, he tried to assure himself that at least nobody had seen his blunder in the still mostly sleeping village. Unsurprisingly it didn’t help his foul mood, though.

Jumping down onto the streets to walk the last bit, he glared at all the startled civilians in his way. Shouldn’t they be used to all the shinobi already? He huffed annoyed, the puff of air visible for a few seconds. It was truly getting cold.

Entering the slowly filling up Tower made his mood even fouler. Why couldn’t people look where they were going? One assistant had almost dropped the stacks of papers he had been carrying onto him, another two had almost run or bumped into him in their hectic runs. What idiots.

Before he could reach his office, someone was calling his name. Great.

Grumbling, he turned around, ready to make his foul mood be known, when he glimpsed a tall figure with long, dark brown hair approaching him.

It was Hashirama.

“Madara!” His obnoxiously loud friend greeted him with a beaming smile, wrapping him in a bear hug because he had been too slow to avoid it.

“Let me go, you oaf!” He struggled and almost head butted the taller man’s chin.

Hashirama’s face immediately dropped into his habitual pout when he finally managed to wrestle himself free. Luckily though Madara was long immune to it.

“You look exhausted, are you unwell?” the stupidly tall man asked him with worry clearly written across his features.

“Nah, just didn’t sleep well. It’s fine.”

“Are you sure? We-“

“Yes, I’ll take a nap after the meeting, shush!” Madara interrupted him exasperated, a fond feeling sneaking it’s way through his chest.

“Promise?” his friend demanded, laying a broad and assuring hand on his shoulder.

“Alright, yes.”

Seemingly satisfied with his answer, the older Senju didn’t waste any time and pinned him with pleading eyes.

“Please don’t be mad at me, friend, but have you seen Tobirama? I know you don’t like him but I’m desperate, he never is that tardy! I need something important from him!” 

“This here?” With a puff from one of his scrolls, Madara offered his attempt at a meeting dossier he had made with the help of the other’s younger sibling’s notes yesterday. Amazing notes, he privately added begrudgingly in his thoughts.

“Ahhh! You are the best friend in the world!” Hashirama very nearly squealed in delight at him, shaking him by the shoulders with both hands.

Too tired to yell at the older man to stop his stupid antics, he waited them out, all the while grimacing instead. 

“How come you have them and where’s Tobirama?” Stopping the shaking, the other shot him a confused look and grabbed the dossier. “I haven’t yet heard anything about the both of you fighting today and you know how you two can’t even make it for five minutes without-“

“I made the dossier!” Madara interrupted him, already annoyed with all the useless blabbering. He didn’t need a reminder of how things usually went. He was there, alright? The fond feelings he had been feeling a minute or so ago already started turning into irritation.

The taller man just shot him a childish, confused look that clearly screamed: What? Why? I don’t understand!

“Your brother is sick, he’s not going to come,” the Uchiha grumbled with a grumbled huff.

“Why not?”

The shorter man shot the brunette a confused look.

“Did you fall on your head? I just told you, he’s sick,” he tried slowly, like he was talking to a little child. Which wasn’t that far off from the truth if you asked him. His friend could be a literal child most of the time. Like now.

“So?” Hashirama echoed his brother’s question, probably unbeknown to him.

He frowned.

“So he’s resting?”

Now it was Hashirama’s turn to scowl.

“But he always comes into work even when he’s sick.”

Was this really the man who had sent him home? What a hypocrite.

“What do you mean?”

“Tobirama doesn’t mind working when he’s sick. He always does. Work I mean,” his friend explained with furrowed eyebrows, seemingly still confused and unhappy.

What the actual-

“Wait, did he make you write this and that’s why you’re this exhausted now?”

“Wha-“ He couldn’t even express his confusion before the other interrupted him with the next flood of dramatics.

“I am so sorry, Madara! He shouldn’t pile his work off of onto others, even less on you, you’re such a busy man!” The dramatic idiot lamented.

Amaterasu’s holy flames, what?

“Hokage-Sama, we have to prepare for the meeting!” Hashirama’s secretary protested mildly from across the corridor, only half of her body visible behind a doorframe. Probably too scared of Madara yelling at her interruption to come any closer. Normally that would’ve made him smirk in satisfaction but he was too confused and distracted right now.

Was he in a parallel universe of some sort? Or still dreaming? None of this made any sense. Crossing his arms, he scowled. Out of tiredness he even discreetly pinched himself under his wide sleeves.

Definitely felt that. Okay so what the actual flames of all that was holy?

“Hashirama, what-“

“Hokage-sama the meeting starts in a few minutes, please come inside!” the shrill and unsure voice of the woman cut him off.

Madara immediately shot her a heated glare at which she hid even more behind the doorframe. Serves her right. How dare she interrupt him so rudely.

Turning back to his mystery of a friend, he sighed. He had so many questions. Though they indeed would have to wait. He too had to prepare for the meeting since he had to present Tobirama’s and his joint project to the council. 

Definitely not something he was looking forward to, the surely ensuing bickering between the council members was already starting to give him a phantom migraine. Hopefully that little notebook would help him answer any questions that he would’ve let Tobirama answer if the albino would’ve been present in the meeting.

“We can talk after the meeting, alright?” Hashirama smiled warmly at him.

“Alright.” 

Of course they didn’t talk after the nightmare of a meeting because their too important Hokage got whisked away by his secretary to meet up with their guests,  
so the Uchiha went to get his work for the day to take home instead.

Again he didn’t even make it to his office before he noticed Mito of all people waiting in front of it. Proper stance, back ramrod straight, hands folded in front of her. Appearing demure and prim but he knew how deadly she could be.

He sighed. Why him? Hashirama’s wife didn’t exactly hate him but they still weren’t even close to anything resembling friends. Suppressing a tired groan he approached her.

“What can I do for you?” He tried for an unthreatening smile but the woman didn’t seem impressed in the least. Well, he couldn’t blame her. He probably looked like death warmed over minus messy, wild hair. Izuna had actually been able to wrangle his mane into a somewhat less messy and disastrous version of his usual hairstyle. Bless his brother.

“Hello, Uchiha-san.” She bowed slightly. “I came to help you split your work up for the day.”

“You didn’t yesterday? Izuna had my keys,” he offered musingly.

“I did not wish to trespass,” the redhead offered mildly.

Humming, he bypassed her to open the door with his key and deactivate the wards with a flick of his chakra. Thankfully his brother hadn’t left his office in a mess, he mused as he made his way over to his desk. Tobirama’s clothes and the ugly haori were hung over his bench and even his desk was largely clutter free. Good.

Mito too seemed to notice the clothes and entered after him to pick them up.

“I’ll take those,” she exclaimed before a ‘poof’ of a sealing scroll could be heard.

“Sure,” he uttered, already lost in thoughts on what parts of his work he should give to Mito and what to keep, all the while making two stacks of paperwork.

At some point she must’ve stepped up to his desk because he could feel imploring eyes on himself that made him look up and lift an eyebrow in silent question.

“How is he?” the Uzumaki asked quietly, voice not giving away anything.

“Who?”

At that Mito shot him an unimpressed look. 

“Tobirama?”

_Oh._

“Don’t look at me like I’m stupid, I’m just tired,” he grumbled annoyed. “What do you expect me to tell you, Mito-hime? He’s sick, had still been sleeping when I left him with Izuna.”

Her full lips pursed in displeasure. Probably the wrong thing to say then. Luckily she was a woman of etiquette and wouldn’t just tear his head off right here and now. Allegedly. 

Better not make her angry.

“I’m sure, Izuna is watching him like a hawk watching it’s fledglings.” He almost had added a ‘don’t worry’ but stopped himself last minute. “Judging by all the pillows he had arranged around him in such a short time yesterday, he probably even made him a cozier, warmer nest with even more of the pillows and blankets, he keeps on buying and hoarding in his room, after I was gone,” he offered in jest to hopefully appease her.

Her mouth relaxed into a more natural expression and she nodded.

“Good. May I ask a favour of you?”

Definitely a rhetorical question.

He hummed.

“Would you be amendable to give something to my brother in law?” the Uzumaki princess more demanded than asked. 

Whatever, he could use to win himself some good points in her books. After all, she was his best friend’s wife. Coming over to their house to sit in awkward silence when she was there wasn’t a desirable pastime.

He nodded.

“What is it?”

The Uzumaki’s dainty but calloused hands elegantly clasped the pale green haori hanging around her shoulders, taking it off and folding it over one of her arms before extending said arm to him.

After a moment of tiredness induced hesitation he gripped the offered piece of clothing.

“Thank you.” She shot him a hesitant smile.

“No problem.” 

Then, feeling a bit guilty he gave her the bigger stack of papers which she too sealed inside a sealing scroll. Before she could take a step back, he decided that he at least wanted one question answered. Nothing too serious, as the Uzumaki princess didn’t trust him enough to answer anything too personal. But something.

“Wait, I have a question.”

This time it was her turn to hum, meanwhile mustering him with calculating eyes.

“The haori the bas-“ Mito shot him an ice cold glare that easily could rival or honestly even surpassed Tobirama’s before he could finish. “…Snowflake was wearing yesterday.”

Whew, barely saved this one. Her glare got slightly milder.

“Yes?” 

“Did Hashirama give it to him?” he asked tiredly.

She shot him a slightly confused look but still answered him.

“No, I did. He had been feeling cold the evening before so I offered it to him since I had been using it to keep myself warm,” she replied slowly. “Why?”

“Just curious.” That didn’t seem to convince her, though. “Alright, I couldn’t imagine anyone besides Hashirama buying such an ugly thing,” he offered with a growing smirk instead.

She surely wouldn’t be offended at that, right? He was aware of her exasperation with Hashirama’s missing taste in fashion. And indeed it gained him a bemused smile.

“It truly is an atrocious thing but it keeps it’s wearer warm,” she offered, fond amusement colouring her voice. “If that is all, I will be on my way.”

He nodded and sealed the haori and his own work to take home after he watched her leave his office in an elegant flutter of her robes.

Half an hour later saw him walking deeper into his home on bare feet, when the Uchiha noticed a familiar voice further ahead. Was Izuna talking to the ice prince? He hastened his steps.

“-eah! Oh my god, Tobi and then Madara told me to leave the bathroom so he could wipe but I was too drunk and slipped on-“

His eyes widened. No, not _that_ story! 

“IZUNA, so kami will help me, I will smite the life out of you, you little shit!” he shrieked, running to his study to rip the shoji door open.

The asshole though was lying on the floor, seemingly dying of laughter, next to his sleeping friend. 

“Oh kami, you really fell for it!” Izuna exclaimed between bouts of hysterical laughter, sounding like he was about to cry.

Madara spluttered, face reddening in mortification.

“How did you know that I was ho-“

“You slammed the front door shut!” the menace cackled.

He hadn’t even noticed in his tiredness. In fact he couldn’t even remember most of his way back home from the office.

Growling, Madara tackled Izuna and they started grappling. Not in earnest, though. The older of the two didn’t have much energy left and thankfully his sibling seemed to adjust the force he was using accordingly as well. So there were no accidental bruises or bloody noses this time.

When Izuna had left for the Tower, Madara had unsealed his work and lied down on the floor of the study not too far away from the sleeping albino because there wasn’t much room, grasping his own hair roots. 

Maybe he should stop this habit, lest his hair start to fall out. Nonsense, he had much too thick hair either way.

After a few minutes passed, he put his face into his hands, sighing.

He couldn’t work like this, it was much too peaceful and quiet for his tired mind, making him even sleepier. Resting like this for a bit should be fine, right? It was a floor, not a cozy futon, he surely wouldn’t fall asleep.

Madara glanced at the sleeping form of the icicle. He envied him. Sleep sounded very tempting. But no. He would take a nap _after_ he finished some work.

The sealing scroll with the haori Mito had given him for Tobirama was digging itself uncomfortably into his backside, so he lifted his hips, took it out of his back pocket and put it down next to the futon. Speaking of harois, he still had so many unanswered questions and Hashirama had only confused him further. This was getting really annoying, he mused, as his eyes started drooping.

Eventually he must’ve fallen asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for confusing anyone! :<  
> Wasn’t my intention but everything’s normal now, I guess. 
> 
> Not ideal since I would’ve preferred to do it the other way but I don’t want to inconvenience anyone :>
> 
> If you thought Madara too flaily in the last chapter, I reworked it and additionally I hope this chapter added a bit of reasoning to his behaviour.
> 
> -
> 
> Oh and in case you want to privately hit me up about any of my works or MadaTobi :>, please feel free to do so on [Tumblr](https://aurora-nuova.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/aurora_nuova)


	8. Gotta go my own way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Heads-up:**  
>  Last time there had been a misunderstanding with the upload of the previous chapter.  
>  _So if you haven’t read a **Madara POV chapter** with **Hashirama** and **Mito** in it, you might want to go the previous chapter first! :> _

* * *

#### Chapter 8: Gotta go my own way

* * *

  


To be honest, he wasn't even sure what had led him to slowly gain consciousness. However, if there was one thing he was certain about, it was this: 

_It distinctly felt like it had been a grievous mistake to do so._

The fitful sleep and the jumbled, weird and nonsensical mess that had been his dreams couldn't be deemed pleasant in the least but he had no doubt that they won over the freezing cold that increasingly found a home in his bones or the excruciating aches pulsing through his exhausted body with every heartbeat since he at least was used to nightmares and night terrors. 

Trying to ignore his ailments for the moment, he attempted to direct his thoughts at much more pressing matters.

Where was he? What had happened? _What day was it and—_ halting his unfamiliarly hectic and chaotic mind, Tobirama tried to gather his thoughts. Collecting intel on his surroundings would prove much more useful than succumbing to his unusually scatterbrained quest for answers.

For one, he could tell that he must've been inside, as he seemed to be lying on a rather comfortable surface while the air was too still for the possibility of being outside to be remotely true.

So while the albino felt certain enough that he was inside, he sluggishly could tell he wasn't at home. The surface was much too soft and cushy while his own futon was a functional necessity that he had picked out specifically to leave his body without aches but not comfortable enough to make him want to succumb to the temptation of laziness when he was tired.

But where was he?

Hazily, he then realized it didn't feel like he was chained or restrained in any way— not gagged either. His eyes were covered or at least it felt like it, judging by the weight on them.

Huh, not too bad a situation.

Against his better judgment, what with the state his body was in, Tobirama's first instinct was to fan out his chakra to better assess his whereabouts without alerting any possible and probably dangerous occupants of the room he currently had to be in but abruptly realized he wasn't able to do so.

 _What?_ He wondered dazedly.

Had he been captured and chakra suppressing seals put on him? Not entirely dumb, he had to secretly admit, but he was more than adequate in taijutsu and would without a question fight if needed, even when in pain, as long as his limbs were working.

So not that smart either.

Before his thoughts could scatter further, he reprimanded himself internally. He needed to concentrate on his current situation.

Another press to try to get an actual feel of his chakra revealed that it in fact wasn't restrained nor contained by anything, it just felt like… _oh—_ it felt like he had exhausted it to a worrying low, bordering on chakra exhaustion.

Not ideal.

Although, considering all the ailments he was inconvenienced by, maybe it at least had saved him from his head rolling right off of his shoulders.

Seeing as soon as he would've wanted to start sensing, he first would've had to stop pulling his senses tight to himself as he habitually did to protect his head against the usual onslaught of Chakra around him—especially in a buzzing, ever-growing village like Konoha—which then involuntarily would've lead to all the Chakra around him assaulting him and his already throbbing head.

The Senju's sleep-addled mind tried to come up with the reason why his Chakra level was so low and what he had done before passing out but his splitting headache made his thoughts uncharacteristically slow and fuzzy. Not to mention the distracting ache in his bones and chest. Frankly speaking, it was not unlike he used to feel after his father's gruelling training sessions or the corporal punishment for misdemeanours in his childhood. So, without a question, not the worst he had felt to date or too unfamiliar but unpleasant and untimely nonetheless.

He refrained from sighing to not reveal any signs that he had woken up to any possible occupants of the room.

Sluggishly realizing that it currently looked like it would be an apparently lost cause to try to remember, instead he attempted to carefully listen in on his surroundings next.

Only muffled bird song but nothing else he could distinguish greeted him. While normally that perhaps could've been considered relaxing, right now the shrill chirps were too loud and jarring, prompting his brain to feel like someone was using it as kunai target practice.

Habitually, Tobirama immediately attempted to breathe against the diversity of aches and discomforts but a searing pain in his chest stopped him short— deep and ragged, rattling coughs, that shook his body, ripping through him, leaving him wheezing and feeling even more exhausted.

So much for staying undetected. _Fantastic._

Surprisingly though, nothing changed. It stayed quiet, no sign of another person for now.

_That was actually unexpected._

Taking in short, shallow breaths through his nose to not aggravate his parched throat into another unnecessary coughing fit, at least his hacking had prompted his drowsy mind to start to remember a few details.

At one point he had been hiding in his office, attempting to keep the bout of sickness that had caught him by surprise a secret from Izuna and Mito who undoubtedly would've started nagging and in all probability tried to convince him to rest for which he decidedly didn't have any time _nor patience_.

Both of those stubborn people didn't tend to show any understanding for his, if he may say so, efficient working habits. Unfortunately, they completely lacked any objectivity in the matter.

Well, at first the Senju Heir had assumed it to be a measly cold that would pass in little time like usual but it hadn't taken him much time to display more severe symptoms, resembling a bout of particularly bothersome flu instead. Which in turn had meant that he had to at least take some measurements against some of the more bothersome symptoms that had been negatively influencing his productivity at the office.

Like the shiver-inducing fever and coughs wracking through his weakened body for example. That hadn't been too difficult a task, though, as he had found simple remedies in the form of some hot tea and his Anija's blessedly warm haori that his Aneue had given him a few hours before when she had caught him shaking like a leaf on a particularly windy day, probably assuming he must've been cold thanks to his Chakra nature on top of his habit of very little sleep.

Tobirama had even actively reminded himself to not let his tea get cold as per usual but to drink the beverage while it maintained a high temperature to dampen down his coughs, so nobody would get suspicious while he tried to finish as much of his Anija's backlog as he could.

After all, it had been his only option when Hashirama had knocked over sake on the desk in the Hokage office in a drunken stupor the evening before and thus had drenched a lot of immensely important, largely already finished paperwork in the process. Paperwork that had been due _the next day_.

Luckily the albino had been able to save some of it and rewrite most of the other documents by taking an additional all-nighter. By that point, it honestly was routine for him to accumulate his busy, sleepless nights until he dropped but he didn't mind as long as it kept Konoha and by extension, his brother's dream, from meeting a harsh and untimely end.

However, the symptoms of the flu that had tackled him ruthlessly, only had increased in severity over time and so he—at some point—hadn't been able to concentrate on the work of the day he had been trying to accomplish nor the Uchiha Clan Head when said man, unfortunately, had entered his office.

To be frank, he hadn't even been able to focus on what the irritating Uchiha had been saying either, embarrassingly taking much longer to recognize questions and to eventually answer them if needed.

The last thing he seemed to remember, albeit rather vaguely, was following the older man into his office after a surprising lack of arguing but he honestly wasn't sure whether that had been fabricated by his feverish mind or actually something that had happened, seeing as his memory supplied him with disjointed images of Madara _supporting him_ and wasn't that a rather fantastical thought that definitely must've been a product of his tiredness?

Struggling to get his shivering body to cooperate, Tobirama eventually managed to turn from his lying position on his back to his unbruised side with a hoarse, aborted grunt— surprisingly making the weight that had been resting over his closed eyes shift with the jerky motion. Abruptly it slid down from his face, leaving moisture behind, only to make a thumping sound as it made impact with the surface below.

Oh, not a blindfold then.

The light, now much brighter than before, felt predictably unpleasant even with his eyes still closed. He shamefully already missed the wet sensation that had been laid over the top of his face.

Moreover, another thing he had noticed while moving, had been the copious amounts of pillows he was lying upon and a heavy blanket on top of him apparently at fault for making his endeavour to move around even more difficult. Definitely not his home then, which tended to be rather utilitarian and anything but excessive in it's furnishing.

So in conclusion, holding him a prisoner nobody would have gone out of their way to make sure he was this comfortable— he knew by experience of missions going awry in the past. Thus enemies kidnapping him could be reasonably excluded as a reason to why he was here, couldn't it?

Not too horrible a situation then. Some of the additional tension in his aching muscles loosened a fraction at the realization.

How had he found his way here, though? And where was here in the first place? He again contemplated sluggishly.

Annoyingly it was rather difficult to think, so knowing he was alone, the albino instead tried to squint his eyes open to assess the situation and his whereabouts but _immediately_ regretted his decision when the blinding light mercilessly seared through his skull. Instantly clenching his eyes shut, embarrassingly he even let a weak whine slip through his parted lips, headache grating through his head with intensifying viciousness.

He definitely hadn't been prepared for _that_.

Grimacing, the albino faintly wished he could just make a Kagebunshin to somehow darken the room.

Wait.

_A Kagebunshin._

That must be why his chakra was depleted, he surmised scowling, eyes still closed.

After all, it was currently his newest Jutsu, still undergoing it's testing phase to detect and eliminate any flaws. And annoyingly he had found a few rather troubling issues like the jarring memory transfer after the clones ceased to exist, causing bouts of migraines or how it consumed too much chakra too fast, ultimately and swiftly incapacitating any hypothetical shinobi with too little chakra reserves using it.

Of course, the latter just had to be a point on his Anija's enormous no-go list of Jutsu conditions he was forced to adhere to, to avoid a 'forbidden Jutsu' brandishing. Honestly, if someone faced incapacitation or death due to their own sheer stupidity and a lack of survival instinct, it wasn't his fault, was it?

He just couldn't get behind why his elder brother loved to brand the majority of his Jutsu inventions as forbidden, as soon as he explained them to him. After all, the vast majority of them tended to aim for a useful purpose.

However, Tobirama could easily admit that his Shadow Clone Jutsu definitely needed some more work before he could try it in battle and then proceed to present it to their Hokage for evaluation, hopefully all the while being able to avoid the technique from joining all his other banned creations.

Otherwise, the Jutsu did seem to work rather well, though. At least that had been the results his multiple tests at the office had shown thus far. The Senju had used the first single, then two clones he had been able to sustain to get more paperwork and overall work at the office and around Konoha done without anyone noticing.

After all, the village did seem like a rather safe contender for a testing ground for it.

Sure, he had to expel the clones where nobody saw them but it was worth it, hence he indeed now was able to finish even more work in a much shorter time. Which was honestly fantastic because there was so much of it, it truly was never-ending.

Regretfully, it yet wasn't feasible to use the technique daily as even his precise Chakra control couldn't accomplish to keep his above-average Chakra reserves from being drained with such a speed, his body wasn't able to replenish fast enough to sustain the clones and thus would usually take up to a day or so to do so if he managed to dispel the clones before reaching Chakra exhaustion.

And that indeed was an important key element, as the healing process from Chakra exhaustion took _even longer_ since the body had to fix the caused damage first before it could replenish any Chakra, which was indeed very inconvenient.

Yet the technique did increase his productivity exceptionally and he could only imagine how marvellous the Jutsu would work as soon as he could solve it's few issues. Oh, he couldn't wait to present his newest creation as soon as it was finished.

Regrettably, he hadn't even been able to tell anyone about his newest Jutsu yet because his Aneue wouldn't approve of his, in her eyes probably, reckless but efficient testing methods and force the promise out of him to not test nor apply it that way. However, he couldn't allow such a thing, as he needed any data he possibly could collect. No experiment nor hypothesis was complete without countless tests to prove their functionality and legitimacy, after all. One could not expect a hypothesis to be true only because it coincidentally had worked a single time.

But somehow the Uzumaki princess always was aware of everything happening around her and thus under no circumstances was her information network to be underestimated. The albino simply had to tread lightly and keep his lips sealed about the matter until the Jutsu's finalization, lest he wanted her to find out about it prematurely and stop him like she had after the irrelevant, small lab incident his bruise kept reminding him of.

After the worsened headache the light had induced lessened, Tobirama went for a second attempt to take a look by opening his eyes gradually into a predictably blurry squint.

In moments like these, the Senju truly wished he had taken some time to come up with a technique to enhance his naturally bad eyesight at some point in the previous years of his life. By all means, he wasn't anywhere near blind and usually he coped just fine but his below-average seeing eyes indeed did prove to be inconvenient at times.

_Now, for example._

Albeit squinting usually did prove helpful, his eyes just wouldn't stop their uncharacteristically, harsh response to the bright light in the room. Yes, his eyes were slightly more light-sensitive but not like _this_. At that, closing them even slightly more to avoid the glare of the light would ultimately result in completely shut eyes. And that sorely wouldn't do.

Lying on his left side, the way he was, he blurrily could make out a low table not too far off, letting his eyes wander to the side of it, revealed—

 _Crimson armour_.

His fist tightened around one of the pillows it was resting upon as the rest of his body froze, dread settling deeply in his stomach like a lead weight.

Tobirama would recognize that particular, unmistakable shade of red belonging to the armour—and especially the blurry form of the gunbai and adjoined kama—leaning on what appeared to be display stands across the room _anywhere_.

The armour and it's rightful owner sometimes still haunted him in his nightmares where he helplessly was forced to watch a younger version of his Anija fight his usual battle in the midst of one of their clans' skirmishes with the shorter man in something akin to a heated but mostly friendly spar, dreading and wondering about when the moment would come when the tides would inevitably turn and they started to fight in earnest like he and Izuna did whenever their clans clashed.

Only for that exact moment to suddenly appear out of nowhere when Tobirama was too far away—just like it had been the case with both Itama and Kawarama—catching both him and his blindly trusting, elder brother completely off guard and by utter surprise, allowing the other man to abruptly and cruelly slaughter his unsuspecting sibling right in front of the albino's eyes and frankly thus by extension Tobirama's will to go on any longer.

But even then, the much too loud thump of a still warm but lifeless body, closely followed by the metallic clatter of the now useless armour and sword barely made the cruel murderer in his dream stop for a brief moment to admire his accomplishment in perverse delight before turning to Tobirama himself, leisurely advancing with a predatory grin only to abruptly rush in and commence to end the albino's life torturously slow in a mix of glee and irrational revenge.

Not that it felt like that mattered anymore at that point in those nightmares, though, because coincidentally the exact moment the life left his Anija's usually warm, kind eyes and this world, Tobirama's hopes and dreams irrevocably followed suit.

The obvious main offender in this not too unlikely scenario?

Madara, of course.

Immediately his heart started racing in response to his thoughts, his limbs increasing in the frequency of their shaking.

 _A leftover reaction from the war_ , he tried to rationalize.

While it might have proven useful then to keep alive, now it had become only an unnecessary and inconvenient remnant of times past. Just like the old habit to not make eye contact with any Uchiha that his clan still seemed to stubbornly possess, rankling in many complaints and harsh words by the offended party. He too was no exception to that behaviour albeit he had other, slightly more complex reasons.

Yet, even knowing this, annoyingly his shaking didn't cease nor ease.

_Get a grip, you utter fool._

Rationally speaking, he was well aware that Madara wouldn't slaughter him without an airtight justification for his actions, as there was too much at stake. Hence as long as Tobirama didn't give him any chance to acquire such an excuse, he should be reasonably fine.

Stubbornly, the sick Senju attempted to get his irregular wheezing breaths under control.

 _This is an immensely uncharacteristically emotional response because your tired and feverish mind is much more liable to unusual irrationality_ , he immediately tried to reason with himself. _Stop this nonsense this instant._

But it's effect could only be described as measly when the grip of his fists tightened so much that his knuckles turned white as his exhausted mind reminded him of how much the older man decidedly still loathed his guts, no, most likely his whole being. When he still clearly could remember how close he had been that one time to feel Madara's unbridled rage turn into a physical altercation when the older man had grabbed him by the front of his shirt after they had clashed especially terribly with their opinions in a meeting but gratefully had been stopped by a distraught Hashirama.

Without question, the younger Senju would've stood his ground and tried his best to fearlessly give as good as he got if not for the forced breakup of their argument but he wasn't foolish enough to believe that he would've come out on top in a strictly physical close-quarter fight with the older Uchiha. His own corporal strength indeed was no match for the older man. There was a reason why he had been Izuna's and not Madara's constant opponent in the war, Hashirama's personal feelings of friendship for his once friend left aside.

Though on second thought, the younger Senju simply could not imagine being able to live through a repeat of his Anija's despair nor utter disappointment directed at him—not the theatrically loud emotions everyone knew but their much more real, quieter counterpart—should anything happen to his sibling's best friend because of something the albino had done to retaliate. Hashirama would be inconsolable.

_Again._

Just like the river incident in their childhood when Tobirama had no choice but to crush his dreams to protect him from much worse repercussions. No, that simply was not something the younger man was willing to risk, not even at the cost of his own person. Not this time around, if he could help it.

His hazy eyes refocused on the armour and weapon displays in the room, directing his distracted thoughts back to his current situation.

But why was he in what appeared to be Madara's house? Had the older man perhaps kidnapped him after all?

He couldn't even flee with the Hiraishin, as that required chakra amounts he wasn't able to procure at that moment, probably not too soon, either. And wha—

 _Mind over body. Calm down_ , the Senju reminded himself stubbornly, unclenching his jaw while attempting to calm his erratic pulse through the short and shallow breaths he unfortunately was only able to take due to his raw throat.

It wouldn't do him well to entertain the same notion as Hashirama's usually theatrical and overly emotional sentiments of irrationality. Tobirama was the rational sibling, so he needed to act like it. This instant.

Frowning, the sick albino put more effort into his attempt to turn his erratic huffing into something remotely resembling calming breaths through his nose, while he slowly unclenched his fists.

No, Madara recklessly kidnapping him would be a more than foolish plan and Tobirama was well aware that the older man was rather intelligent and a strategic genius under all his bluster. That in combination with Izuna's wit and ruthlessness had been what had made them so dangerous in the war, after all.

He wouldn't be foolish enough to kill Tobirama in the Uchiha Clan Head's house, either, as a Senju killed on Uchiha grounds in Konoha only would set off another immediate war. It didn't even particularly matter who the person killed was nor what position they held. Being a member of the Senju Clan killed by an Uchiha and vice versa would be plenty enough, as people still were much too restless and largely too resentful to forgive such a heinous crime by their once enemy at the current point in time. Peace had also been Madara's dream; he wouldn't jeopardize it only to messily get rid of him because of some petty hate.

Tobirama wasn't going to even attempt to waste any thinking capacity about the absurdity of Madara preparing such a lavish resting place for him, either.

Unthinkable.

There had to be another plausible reason for this, so he forcefully shelved that particular earlier train of thought. Being ill was no excuse to forsake logical thinking.

That still didn't answer his question why he was here, though, so the albino let his eyes roam as far as he could without lifting his much too heavy head. Catching a glimpse of his fur on top of what appeared to be his favourite blanket, folded not too far away made him stop in complete lack of comprehension.

_What?_

The Senju was thoroughly convinced that he hadn't been wearing his fur collar nor had the blanket been even anywhere near his office but at home instead or he would've utilized both of the items to keep the cold at bay.

_How did that-_

Suddenly his eyes fell on a ceramic cup left to the side of said items and the futon he was laying on. Tobirama unconsciously licked at his parched and cracked lips to no avail.

His mouth and throat felt as dry as the Katon-charred patches of ground Izuna left behind on the rare occasion they found some time to spar in the forest surrounding Konoha. Oh, what he wouldn't do for a sip of water or tea or pretty much anything at that moment, he privately lamented.

With enough chakra left, he could've manipulated the liquid in the cup and called it forth to himself or simply drained water out of the surrounding air instead. Inconveniently, though, he did not have enough chakra left, so no Jutsu usage, as the symptoms of Chakra exhaustion just weren't worth the little water his current minuscule reserves would guarantee him.

Unfortunately, he simply had to reach for it.

Mobilizing all his strength to grab for it—a task that usually required no additional thought—he lethargically slid his trembling hand out from under the heavy blanket, the air outside his cocoon making him shiver in earnest, more goosebumps raising on his skin, as he nudged the cup, only for it fall over.

He hastily tried to stop it from spilling only to realize that it had been empty all along. Suppressing an annoyed groan, his eyes then fell on the ceramic water jug behind it.

It's opening obviously much higher than the cup's, which also made that one too tall to look inside—at least lying down as he currently was. Moreover, it undoubtedly would be too heavy to lift and relocate in his current, pitiful state, so he would need to sit up and use gravity instead.

His immense thirst was motivation enough to shakily lift himself up on the pillows with a grunt of effort that thankfully did not set off his throat into another coughing fit this time. Shivers ran down his spine, as his sweat-soaked back met the cold air. Ignoring it to scheme how he would fill the cup with the jug's content in the most efficient and least energy-wasting way instead, he subconsciously shot the content a look.

Empty.

_Of course._

He bitterly sneered at his bad luck, almost tempted to follow it up with a hearty eye roll.

Though not for long, as he was not known for being one to waste opportunities. Using the fact that he was already more or less halfway sitting, he examined the room from his slightly higher vantage point.

It looked like a simple, rather organized study. Albeit very decorated, multiple Uchiwa proudly displayed around the room and little knick-knacks lying around here and there, though he couldn't make out what most of them were from his vantage point with his bad eyesight; blurry shapes greeting him instead. The only visible mess was what seemed like paperwork—which's content he couldn't hope to make out—on the low table.

Stretching his aching legs to no avail, as the sensation regrettably didn't lessen, his distracted gaze fell upon his covered limbs—well the blanket covering them to be precise, or rather a multitude of blankets, as it appeared.

No wonder the bedding felt so heavy.

In fact, the albino did even remember that particular wool atrocity lying on top of the rest of the blankets rather clearly because he had made fun of Izuna for buying it, had even chuckled at him because the Uchiha had been so enamored with the admittedly, ugly and kitschy piece on their way to a mission that had taken them to Yukigakure a few weeks ago.

The Senju had been secretly surprised to witness his friend expertly negotiate favourable prices with a bit of apparently well-placed flirtation, or at least that had been what Izuna had smugly bragged about to him later on.

Tobirama himself had been much more interested in the tasteful and expensive content of one of the accessory displays to pay too much attention to their probably embarrassing conversation, even going as far as being lucky enough to find a particularly elegant looking kanzashi for Mito. Her birthday and any other viable gift-giving occasions had still been a long way off but he liked to be prepared in advance because he tended to be so busy that it usually felt like birthdays and such occasions surprised him out of nowhere. Having gifts at the ready for those times already had saved his neck so many times, it became an ingrained habit to do so.

And indeed, the female merchant had seemed rather charmed judging by the drastic reduction of the prices when they had presented their desired purchases before he and his friend had parted ways with her. All in all, it had been a surprisingly pleasant time, the mission went well and Izuna and he had gotten along, too.

Unfortunately though, as things never tended to stay favourable for too long, they had gotten caught in a snowstorm on the way back and had to take shelter in an alcove for the remainder of the day and following night.

Which admittedly wouldn't have posed too big of a problem if it hadn't been for their low Chakra reserves, combined with their drenched state of attire and freezing wind penetrating their hiding place. Luckily, they had been able to dry and light some wood with a few small controlled and well placed Suiton and Katon Jutsu, so they could warm themselves and hang up their clothing to dry.

Remembering his previous purchase, Izuna had then pulled out his monstrosity of a blanket in triumph and had told him that he had to _apologize_ and admit that _buying the blanket had been a good idea_ if he wanted to share it.

Of course, he had immediately denied the smug brat.

For approximately half an hour.

It had been horrendously embarrassing when he ultimately had to reluctantly concede defeat, even having gone as far as making the other swear on complete secrecy. But Tobirama detested being cold and it did not take much for him to feel so either. Much less an actual snowstorm.

To this day, Izuna liked to discretely but repeatedly remind him of his apparent defeat.

The other could be such a childish brat someti—

_Izuna._

Suddenly Tobirama felt like slamming his head against the table but of course refrained from doing so to not make matters worse.

_He had forgotten that the younger Uchiha shared a house with his older brother._

Of course.

So leaving his unnecessary mental detour behind and returning to his dilemma at hand, his friend must've been responsible for him being here, yes? Undoubtedly that would make much more sense than all the foolish ideas his tired brain had tried to come up with. Apparently, he had worried for no reason whatsoever. He was such a fool.

Immediate warmth and relief flooded him.

But why would Izuna choose his older brother's study on _Uchiha allotted land_ as the location to make _him_ lay down in?

He could acknowledge the fact that it was no wonder he wasn't at home because his house was heavily warded and Izuna, while proficient in many things, definitely lacked the knowledge to safely disarm all his Fūinjutsu traps. Of course, Mito knew how to as she had helped him design most of them in the first place but his Aneue surely must've been too busy.

Considering they undoubtedly seemed to be on Uchiha grounds as of now, albeit inside Konoha, his mind just couldn't make sense of Izuna's reasoning for their location in question. Tobirama was well aware that he wasn't a welcome sight here, to put it very mildly.

Admittedly though, he could not come up with an alternate location, either. So that probably really only left Izuna's room or their house in general which he perhaps somehow could attempt to make sense of but again:

_Madara's study?_

For obvious reasons, the Senju did not particularly feel like mentally revisiting his previous thoughts about the Uchiha Clan Head's opinion of him.

He grimaced at the splitting headache that was preventing him from making too much use of his usually clear mind.

Why here?

Had Izuna convinced his sibling somehow?

But how?

While true, Madara and Izuna did have a very close relationship, the older Uchiha decidedly disapproved of the albino's and his little brother's budding friendship, had even gone as far as arguing his opinion about the matter a few times, only to have resulted in Izuna giving the other Uchiha a cold shoulder for days until they had made up. But he also knew that Izuna had a way with people, especially Madara, that usually led to the majority of his whims and wishes fulfilled.

Huh, that thought actually prompted an idea.

Maybe, if this study was anything like the Senju Clan Head study, then it probably wasn't a place that people— not even highly ranked shinobi— could just waltz into without permission, with the exception of Izuna himself probably.

So, surprisingly after all, it did seem like a moderately safe room to keep a mostly unwanted presence like himself in to avoid other Uchiha Clan members from accidentally walking in on him.

Baffling that the older Uchiha would allow it, however.

Maybe to protect Izuna from being found out for helping the still mostly hated White Demon? He was sure that most members of the Clan wouldn't approve and perhaps even look down upon the younger Uchiha for it and the older Uchiha did seem rather overprotective if his observations and his friend's tales were to be trusted.

Not knowing Madara enough to make any sound assumptions about his reasoning, he decided to ask his friend as soon as he saw him instead.

But that didn't solve his thirst problem.

Calling for Izuna with his sore throat would surely only embarrass him. Or start another coughing fit. Not acceptable. Disappointingly the room didn't seem to hold any more jugs either, at least none were visible to him.

Slowly resigning himself to his fate, he realized that getting out of bed to either find water or at least alert Izuna somehow would be his best option.

Having decided on his next step of action, sweat running down his neck and face, he struggled into a halfway sitting position, more of the cool air immediately assaulting his sweat-soaked chest and lower back, making his shivers even worse.

The abundance of blankets had kept him a fraction of warm, or at least something resembling not freezing cold but he didn't have enough strength to lift a blanket, let alone all of them and his body, so he didn't have a choice but to slip out of them to be able to move around.

What an utter pity.

Stalling and mentally preparing himself, Tobirama curled his hands deeper into his wide sleeves as he continued shivering.

_Wait._

_Wide sleeves?_

He sluggishly raised one arm to look at it. Wide sleeve indeed. It looked like a dark blue, yukata sleeve. He didn't recognize it, so this definitely didn't belong to him.

Now the cold air slipping through the front of the piece of clothing suddenly made sense. His squirming seemed to have increasingly opened up the yukata.

Being aware that he apparently wasn't wearing his own garments prompted Tobirama to try to hazily look farther down at himself to inspect his apparel but stopped short when his neck didn't cooperate. A stiff neck wasn't unusual, especially not for him with his admittedly less than ideal working habits, but the current condition of it seemed rather excessive, especially when the futon and pillows he seemed to have slept upon, were this soft and cushy. Hence, as far as he was concerned they ought to have corrected that inconvenience.

Heaving an annoyed sigh, he immediately regretted his decision, as it made him start coughing again.

_Great._

What in the name of the Pure Lands had he done before passing out for his neck to feel this way? A seemingly recurring question without a clear answer, he mused, exasperated. However, his feverish memories didn't seem safe to be trusted. A rather unfamiliar feeling if he was honest.

Slowly dropping his hand from his mouth, he patted his unusually sore stomach through the gaping yukata opening, his fingers brushing over bandages wrapped around his midriff.

_And what was that about?_

Well, obviously bandages over his bruise if he had to hazard a guess, that much he could imagine, as it didn't feel like there were any additional, external injuries on him since his last time being conscious, as far as he could tell. But why would someone waste such precious resources and go out of their way to wrap such a minor inconvenience up? After all, it was nothing too bad, just bothersome on top of everything else.

Wait.

He was wrapped in bandages and wasn't wearing his own clothes anymore— _someone must've seen him naked._

The realization made his already warm face heat up even more as mortification flooded him, his arms curling around his midriff in discomfort.

His Anija liked to call him a prude but it wasn't Tobirama's fault that he had been taught to cover himself up like a sensible person by their father when they had been younger while his elder brother had pranced around in the nude without a care in the world.

And the albino couldn't even fault Chichiue for it if he in fact had other reasons for doing so, as his colouring indeed was more than odd amongst their usually tan and dark-haired clan. His eye colour did not help either, perhaps even his worst trait. He was perfectly aware. Years of being told just that and bearing witness to much harsher things being directed at him had made sure of that.

Now he just felt too awkward and uncomfortable to undress in front of others.

It was fine.

Although, he admittedly had taken a handful of baths alongside Izuna when his friend had been successful to stubbornly rope him into it a few select times; like whenever they had passed an inn after a few of their missions as a means of _'celebration and bonding'_. At least the other had vehemently insisted upon that reasoning and explained that his brother and he liked to do so, too.

Perhaps an Uchiha Clan thing he did not understand?

Admittedly, though, if he absolutely were made to choose the least embarrassing person to have seen him in the nude this exact moment, his friend probably indeed would be his choice. Surprisingly, it did seem that Izuna's claim held merit after all, but Kami forbid the other ever discovered this particular piece of private information as there would be no escaping the smugness.

Softly sighing, he dearly hoped nobody else had seen him in the nude at least.

However, the Senju felt like he knew Izuna enough to wager a guess that if his friend were to hear those particular thoughts, he would tell him to not let his mind linger on something so insignificant and apparently normal like seeing each other in a state of undress.

And indeed, rationally speaking it shouldn't and did not matter in the greater scheme of things who had changed his clothing. What had been done, had been done, no use to waste energy on it.

 _Don't get sidetracked_ , he thought, burrowing his hands deeper into the long sleeves.

His plan had been to mobilize his strength in search of water, not to uncharacteristically reminisce about life and his close circle of family or his friend. Or that infuriating Uchiha Clan Head.

He frowned.

Tobirama's body decidedly didn't perceive it as a good idea to leave the comfortable futon, it seemed, but when did his body do? Correct, it didn't. Hence, why he used much less comfortable furniture to avoid such situations. After all, Chichiue's teachings had taught him valuable life lessons like that.

Surely, if it weren't for his fever-induced muddled brain, even the pain wouldn't have been an issue because fortunately one could get used to it and easily ignore such inconveniences as long as one had a strong hold over their own mind and it got even easier if the pain was a constant sensation. Fine, he would just have to stop his childish, internal whining, and try harder to will the different pains into the back of his mind instead.

 _Compartmentalize, prioritize, focus_ , his father's stern voice echoed in his mind.

Mind steeled, Tobirama braced his hands on the futon, trying to slowly get his aching and shaking legs underneath him. Feeling already spent, he furrowed his brows in frustration.

The levels of pain and exhaustion easily ruled out a simple cold, without a question and the Senju Heir, unfortunately, had been well aware of this before. But even for a flu, this felt vastly too excessive.

But it didn't matter, as he didn't have time to be idle and lie in bed any longer, catching up and going back to work was his number one priority—after he got himself water first, as he couldn't refute that denying himself that necessity would decidedly negatively further impact his health but more importantly his productivity. And he definitely would need to be extremely productive and efficient to catch up on all the work he undeniably must have missed out on.

It rankled him that he didn't even know how long he had been absent from the Tower. Had it been a few hours? A day? _More than a day?_

With all the all-nighters he had collected thanks to his growing proficiency in avoiding his sister-in-law—or perhaps rather proficiency in making use of her leniency thus far— up until the moment of that cursed day he remembered last, he wouldn't even be surprised if he had slept for that long, as he had been at his usual limit well before his Anija had sullied those documents.

But honestly, if he had to hide away in his office or find a different hiding place and bribe Izuna for every piece of paperwork he needed him to deliver to it's supposed recipients to avoid his sister-in-law, he would. Without any shame whatsoever.

A shiver ran down his spine at the real possibility of her catching him.

As soon as Mito would learn of this, every last dredge of the very little sympathy she still had held for his work ethics would vanish. Evidently, she would be furious and horrendously disappointed in him for not listening to her to take better care of himself.

Unfortunately, it really would be best to avoid her at the office as soon as he went back. She worried too much about him as it already was and he couldn't imagine a scenario in which she wouldn't drag him home and give him a lengthy scolding. But maybe afterwards she would stay to make him some hot soup to lessen the blow or bring him more blankets or—

No, it was shameful for a shinobi, even worse, a grown man like him, to want such coddling. And he wasn't his Anija, people wouldn't be lenient with him, either.

Suddenly his legs buckled and he couldn't catch himself, falling forward with a pained grunt. _Seriously!?_

He was begrudgingly grateful that at least nobody was here to witness this embarrassing situation.

When the Senju was moderately sure his legs wouldn't shame him by giving out again, this time he braced his hands on the top of the low table next to the futon to slowly lift himself up into a standing position.

Bracing himself on the walls next, which thankfully weren't only rice paper and thin paneling like they apparently had been in the original Uchiha compound back at the Clan's ancestral homeland—that is if the reports were to be believed—he sluggishly shuffled over to the entrance of the room. His spinning head and the glaring light making it hard to take a look around, he focused on his goal instead:

Find the kitchen.

Unfortunately, it was his first time at the Uchiha main family's home. However, he had helped come up with village structuring and more importantly the majority of the planning and blueprints for Konoha's new housing for the currently joined and prospectively joining clans and civilian groups before his elder brother had a chance to force all of them to live in horrendous treehouses or disadvantageous and nonsensically raised village structures. Anija was an unparalleled visionary force, that much was clear, but his actual, strategic planning? Evidently, it left much to be desired. But that was what Tobirama was there for, to realize Hahsirama's dreams in a realistic approach.

Maybe Madara hadn't changed up the standard layout too badly? Though, knowing the annoying and spiteful older man, he probably had, hadn't he? It would be just his luck.

Leaving the room with his heavy, trembling limbs proved much more difficult than he had anticipated, making his journey needlessly tedious and slow.

At the point, he finally had managed to exit the study, he wasn't sure if his limbs were shaking because of the cold lashing at him or the effort it took to stay upright.

He felt his face twist in barely repressed annoyance.

Maneuvering the blessedly dim corridors of the decidedly too-big house, Tobirama ardently hoped that someone had left the door to the kitchen open. After all, he couldn't simply open every shoji door he came across, as that would be much too disrespectful.

Even worse, what if he accidentally came across the older Uchiha's personal sleeping quarters?

If Izuna caught him red-handed, the other would never let him live such a thing down. By that point, he knew his friend well enough to be aware of said friend's habit to never miss an opportunity that was presented to him and teasing him to attempt to get a reaction had been his favourite past time even before the creation of Konoha. Though, admittedly Tobirama himself had recently discovered that their back and forth tended to entertain him ever since he and the younger Uchiha had started doing it in a decidedly good-natured way after they hesitantly had become friends. He even almost considered it a form of verbal sparring.

Slowly continuing on his sluggish journey, the albino felt rivulets of sweat run down the back of his flushed neck and trickle into the collar of the borrowed yukata, reminding him of how utterly disgusting he felt. What he wouldn't do for an opportunity to clean himself right this moment.

Heavily leaning against the wall, he wiped the nape of his stiff neck with his palm, belated realization making him scowl and stop, as his clammy hand just seemed to smear his sweat around more.

Keeping his hand in place to gently prod at his stiff neck, he mentally noted that he probably should try to treat it with hot water, as soon as the possibility of a quick bath presented itself to him.

He grimaced at the feeling of his fingers brushing over the uncharacteristically long strands of hair at the nape of his neck, already drenched in perspiration. That reminded him, he needed to get a hair cut as well. But when? When even had been the last time he had gotten it cut? He honestly didn't remember.

Ah but that didn't matter, it could wait.

As soon as the albino had caught up with work, he simply would have to ask Mito. His Aneue was the only person he trusted with a sharp blade near enough his head and neck to cut hair and admittedly she indeed gave him much more decent cuts than he himself was able to.

His grimace deepened at the memory of one particular moment in time when Mito hadn't married into the Clan yet—back around the time after Hashirama had started to meet with his then still secret friend— when Tobirama begrudgingly had allowed Anija to cut his decidedly too long hair because he himself had injured his dominant arm in a previous training session with their father and so hadn't been able to do so himself.

However, Chichiue always had been adamant about the adherence to all of the enforced rules upon them, like to always keep their hair short and presentable for example. Rules his brother had partially broken over time but Tobirama never truly had been able to.

Receiving the injury in training had already soured his father's mood remarkably and Tobirama had vehemently tried to appease him by especially flawless obedience.

So when Chichiue had commanded him to fix his hair after their training that particular day, the albino had felt like he had no other choice but to ask Hashirama who he had believed to do a better job than he would have been able to with the use of his non-dominant hand.

Long story short, his Anija had sneezed, almost impaled him and had given him a very short and uneven cut on his bangs which he then immediately had tried to correct in a fit of panic, but unfortunately that only had resulted in a near bold patch and undesirably short hair all around instead.

It wasn't as if Tobirama could be described as anything akin to vain, far from it even, hadn't been in his childhood either but he had already been considered an unfavourable oddity amongst their Clan and the irregular and too short patch of hair had obviously become another unfortunate way to ridicule him on top of the punishment he had been subjected to by their father for it. Only making matters worse when Tobirama had remained silent, refusing to tell Chichiue how his hair had gotten like that in the first place. But he simply had not seen a need for his Anija to get punished for wishing to give him a helping hand in a time of need.

However, that day he forever had retracted the permission for his elder brother to come near his hair with any kind of blade.

Sudden, familiar warmth broke through his sluggish and distracting memories.

Involuntarily approaching the source, Tobirama realized that with every step closer it increasingly soothed the feeling of freezing cold that had a constant grip on his body since he had woken up.

Though, abrupt hesitation flooded him as his subconscious belatedly recognized the close-by source of warmth as Madara's Chakra.

And unfortunately, it undeniably felt like that prick's Chakra and not say… Izuna's.

After all, the Uchiha Clan Head's Chakra had a very unmistakable feeling to it. Yes, the average Uchiha Chakra signature mostly felt like some type of hectic or scalding fire, as majority of the Clan naturally tended to be very Katon inclined but every signature had it's own touch and characteristics to his sensing.

Izuna's, for example, felt akin to a freshly ignited fire, young and excited with a hidden, crackly note of lightning mixed in—usually proportionally growing stronger in tandem with his temper— likening it to something akin to a shower of sparks like a fountain assaulting his senses whenever his admittedly rather short fuse blew.

Madara's Chakra though felt akin to burning alive in the centre of a dangerous and scalding forest fire with no hope of escape. At least when the older Uchiha's own famous temper flared, which was admittedly often, especially as soon as he glimpsed Tobirama.

However, when the older man seemed to have a rare good day with his usually explosive temper, it surprisingly felt like dipping his body into the almost scalding, all-encompassing water at an onsen, blessedly loosening his tired and cramped muscles, warming him from the inside like a helping of particularly hot sake.

The albino was embarrassed to admit—even in the privacy of his own thoughts—that his secret guilty pleasure was to indulge in that delightful warmth from the safety of his own office on the colder days or when he felt sick. It was a rather efficient way to increase his productivity at work, especially when he didn't even have to rely on his sensing to be able to indulge in it, as the other usually let his huge, sweltering Chakra roam as freely as his Anija let his emotions loose, that even non-sensor Shinobi could feel it with ease.

Even now, the heat was pulling him in like a magnet, previously set goal already partially forgotten.

The freezing cold in his bones lessened even more with each further step into the older man's direction. That annoying menace indeed was a walking furnace and it perhaps was one of the very little things he actually liked about him if he was perfectly honest.

Under no circumstance would he say that he enjoyed their recurring, infuriating and pointless fights. Those were just annoying and distracting him from his work. However, efficiency or well, hard work at least was one of the many strings that helped hold Konoha together. And even if he had to hold onto every single string all by himself to save the village from failure, he would, without a question.

Anything for his brother's dream that he otherwise wouldn't have been able to achieve due to his lack of administrative talent.

Stopping in front of the room, the older Uchiha seemed to be situated in—at least judging by the heat that washed over his still trembling body—enabled Tobirama to hear a few voices and their incoherent mumbling, automatically making adrenaline pump through his veins.

Oh, he wouldn't want to accidentally overhear any Clan secrets. Though, he fully assumed that Madara and his visitor or visitors would not be foolish enough to loudly speak about such matters, where potential intruders like him could easily overhear them. Concealing the dredge of Chakra he had left for good measure, the sick albino ardently tried to withstand the temptation to sit down and bask in that glorious heat.

"What is the meaning of this suggestion?!" Madara's enraged voice suddenly bellowed.

He grimaced at the volume.

Well, how unfortunate, that had been a rather short reprieve, he might want to leave now that he actually was able to make out words thanks to the raising, pain-inducing volume. Tobirama would have liked to bask in that warmth for a moment longer, as even being buried under that multitude of blankets hadn't made him feel remotely as warm, he mused with a growing pout.

"Madara-sama, may I please ask of you to lower your voice? We do not raise ours even though you haven't even served us any tea like customs would necessitate," a pompous, male voice advised with an almost equally raised voice.

_How unexpected but more importantly amusingly bold._

Shooting the floor a bemused look, even Tobirama knew that had been a serious mistake.

Oh, the albino knew from experience that Madara would first almost choke on his sudden fury, cue the cutoff wheezing he could hear, then splutter highly offended, there— he suddenly realized in amusement that he could almost even picture the pulsing vein in the other man's temple— and finally start his shouting in:

_3_

_2_

_1_

_Now._

" _Excuse you?!_ Elder, that is only because you haven't warned me about your visit beforehand _like customs would necessitate_ but rudely ripped me out of my sleep instead!" Madara expectedly roared with such fury, Tobirama was surprised that nobody had fled the room in fear yet.

Suddenly, a long silence met his ears and the albino had to suppress an amused huff. What had they expected from that explosive man? Surely they must intimately know their Clan Head's disposition like no one else, yes?

Madara's Chakra was increasingly approaching it's forest fire temperatures but for once Tobirama couldn't say that he awfully minded, the rising heat doing a good job in warming his aching and tired body.

"Ah Madara-sama, but how could you let Izuna-sama bring that monstrosity here?" Interrupting himself, the male cleared his throat, perhaps for dramatic effect. "I knew that your younger brother had an impressive sway on you but don't you think this might be going a bit too far?" the elderly voice accused in what could be described as barely suppressed anger.

"After all, that cursed monster has cruelly killed so many of our poor clansmen that we have been telling our children bedtime stories about him and his horrible deeds in warning," the first voice supplied, almost overlapping the other.

Tobirama frowned. Perhaps now would be the appropriate moment to leave after all.

"Stop that nonsense about Izuna this instant!" the Clan Head growled, apparently ignoring the other remark. "If you have forgotten, let me jog your memories, yes? Hashirama, said monster's _older brother_ , is the Hokage and would be furious if I just kicked that frigid bastard out on his ass!"

"But Madara-sama, listen—"

"No, you listen. Do you want me to risk our position in the village? Or better yet, do you want anyone to accuse us of trying to start another war?"

One of the occupants of the room seemed to heave an explosive sigh.

"Of course not. But please consider all the poor families who, come tomorrow morning at the latest, will come to know that their worst nightmare is staying amongst us?" an elderly, female voice argued.

"Exactly and please don't forget all the innocent children freely walking around our lands! Do you expect us to forbid them from leaving their homes because you want to grant that position-stealing Senju a favour?" a fourth voice chimed in, hissing the albino's family name like a slur.

"Are you possibly sympathizing with that freak?" the pompous voice suddenly accused.

"How dare you! I have not forgotten what he has done for even a moment," Madara's voice boomed through the room. "I am simply protecting our clan from turning into outsiders. And if that means I have to let that freakish bastard laze around in my home, then that's unfortunate but I don't have another choice."

"I assure you, that murderer is not even sick but trying to scheme against Izuna-sama and yourself to steal our family secrets!" the female snarled.

"Is there really no other way-"

"Do you seriously expect me to not have tried to come up with an alternative!?" Madara barked with barely restrained fury.

A sudden bang inside made Tobirama take a startled, deeper breath. Luckily, nobody inside seemed to have noticed thanks to the commotion but he could feel a growing tingle at the back of his throat. He could tell that a coughing fit was threatening to build. Leaving before he couldn't stop it and they would notice him looked like the safest route for now.

He had heard enough either way, he mused, eyes narrowing in distaste as he hastily turned around to where he supposedly had come from, if his memory served him right.

Tobirama simply didn't understand why hearing that made him feel... actually he wasn't particularly sure how he felt. Mad? Disappointed? Annoyed?

_Ridiculous._

He should be u—no, he was used to it and should know better than to be even remotely surprised. Only because Izuna had taken pity on his lazy arse and somehow convinced Madara to let him stay here, didn't automatically mean that prick's opinion of him had changed even slightly. The Senju had to find out what his friend had sacrificed to convince his bullheaded sibling to actually let him stay and pay him back. Doubly.

Getting worked up in his pitiful state was not doing him any favours, he realized, as irregular puffs of air wheezed out of him, further slowing him down.

He simply wanted to be home this instant.

What a childish and pathetic thought in reaction to something that he had already been aware about, he berated himself embarrassed, as he staggered to the study he came from on wobbly legs, supporting himself on the wooden walls whenever dizziness prompted him to almost stumble.

Unconsciously he already had long abandoned his quest to find Izuna as he rounded the corner to the corridor where the study was situated in.

The adrenaline rushing through his veins had helped him hurry back to the room without breaks, where he quietly slid the shoji door shut after he had entered. Not being able to stave off the building cough in his chest anymore, he let it rip through him as he slid down into a squat against the wall.

_Right, the water._

But he didn't have much time, he had to pack up his things if he didn't want to get caught.

When his coughing mellowed out, he squinted into the too-bright room.

Panting and wheezing, he stubbornly dragged himself over to the futon on trembling legs where he picked up the wet rag to put it on top of the empty mug and attempted to make the bed or at least make it look less disorganized. No need to give the Clan Head any more reason to attack him because of such a ridiculous triviality the next time they inevitably met.

Trying to push the pillows into a semi neat position, he looked at the inviting-looking futon through his squinted eyes. It was so much more comfortable than the one he had at home. Though that had been a conscious decision, he reminded himself.

He repeated his mantra of practicality and efficiency.

If his bed wasn't too comfortable, it therefore wouldn't pose a too big temptation to rest his exhausted body longer than necessary. And why would he even spend his available resources in such a wasteful way when he usually didn't even spend that much time at home, rather spending his nights at his office. He didn't need a better futon at home. He didn't.

He had followed that system all his life, even at his office. His desk chair was shy of unbearable to sit in just so it wouldn't ruin his back, but not comfortable enough to tempt him into naps he didn't have time for. It helped to keep focused on what had to be done. Which he ironically didn't seem to have been able to since he woke up. Point proven.

Tobirama felt his arms join his legs in their excessive trembling.

He just had to tough it out and make use of the lingering adrenaline.

It would be fine but he needed a plan to successfully go through with it. As soon, as he made it home, he would take a third of a soldier pill. Taking all of it would be impractical as yes, it would give him all of his chakra back and enough strength to fight for three days but as soon as that allotted time passed, he would instantly drop from exhaustion. And that decidedly wasn't his desired effect. But taking fractions of it— as was his method when he didn't have time for normal sustenance— would boost his chakra regeneration rate and after some time let him use his hiraishin, maybe even one Shadow clone.

Considering his current state of health, though, he begrudgingly had to admit that he probably wouldn't be able to forego at least a bit of more sleep and rest first.

Fine, he would give himself half an hour of sleep when he came home, take a third of a soldier pill, clean himself up as much as needed to be semi-presentable, and then he would do the rest of his work at the Tower as fast as he was able to. Maybe he'd try to take Hashirama's work afterwards to make up for his body giving out on him.

How could his body have abandoned him like that?

Usually, he was able to focus his mind on the task at hand and work through tiredness and illness. This wasn't the first time he was ill after all. Just the first time in years his body had failed him so badly. Usually, he would just change his sleeping habits and temporarily forego all-nighters to incorporate a solid three to four hours of sleep and maybe a nap in between meetings in his office if things were drastically going downhill or take a painkiller and he was able to brace through whatever ailed him.

Not this time.

Even worse, he had stumbled in front of Madara of all people. How humiliating. The infuriating prick wouldn't let him forget it even for a second. But not in a companionable way like Izuna. The older Uchiha loved to go for liver hooks, as had been apparent in majority of their fights.

Turning around to pick up his belongings next to the futon, he glanced at the low table with the strewn around scrolls and papers.

He frowned in confusion.

 _Wasn't that some of_ his _paperwork?_

Why was that bastard in possession of his personal paperwork? Was he doing it on top of his own? But how? Embarrassingly Tobirama himself tended to struggle with it because he assisted in the majority of the village projects and even had taken over a few of them.

But why would that cursed bastard take his work from him?

He suddenly remembered the 'position-stealing Senju' comment. Did Madara feel entitled to the albino's position as Hashirama's right hand? Did he possibly want to take it over? But that was not possible as he first would need to get rid of Tobirama. However, there was no way to do that without killing him, which he had ruled out earlier. That prick wouldn't risk a war for that.

The paper he had been holding in his hands, started to crumple in his increasingly tight grip.

Was Madara trying to make him not needed anymore?

Immediate fury flooded him.

That was the only reason he could think of why the other would lower himself to do his paperwork. He obviously always had been aware that the Uchiha hated him—honestly hadn't even needed the conversation he had just overheard as a reminder—but was his hatred so big, he tried to actually get rid of him? If that prick took over his work, what would that leave him with?

Hashirama already thought him cruel and an outdated warlord on the better of his days because he regularly had to make sure that his Clan Head wouldn't run them into ruin with his whimsical and idealistic nature.

No, Madara would need to rip those projects and his place in the village out of his metaphorical cold, dead hands.

Tobirama would not allow it.

Grabbing his paperwork, he securely situated it between the folded blanket and his fur for better transportation. Being in possession of a transport scroll would have been delightful but he could make do without one, too.

Lifting his things, he took a last look at the room, before he sluggishly and cautiously left it, after he had made sure that there was nobody on the corridor outside the room.

The albino needed to hurry. Running into Madara wouldn't do. Tobirama was certain, he wouldn't be able to endure one of their fights right now.

Neither mentally nor physically.

Speaking of Uchihas, he ardently hoped he wouldn't run into anyone who felt like they needed to start something with him on his way out of the compound. He was in no condition to stand his ground.

Clutching his belongings in one arm and bracing himself with the other one on the walls of the corridor, finally he reached the door and its genkan.

Seeing his sandals down below, he roughly let his body fall down onto the raised surface to put them on. The sudden and harsh impact tore a groan out of him which aggravated his tender throat into deep, wet coughs, rattling his whole frame in pain.

Tobirama laid the things in his arms down next to him to make a grab for his sandals that were lying neatly on the floor when he suddenly felt warmth approaching.

His eyes widened.

Had Madara noticed his disappearance that fast? Now he definitely needed to hurry, the man couldn't be far away if the sick albino could already feel the heat of his Chakra.

However, his hands were so sweaty, his fingers kept slipping on the clasp of his sandals. Letting a frustrated grunt slip that aggravated his sore throat, he tried to suppress the inevitable coughing fit this time, irregular aborted and wet coughs shaking him instead, increasing his goal's difficulty.

Suddenly the angry, approaching stomping of feet could be heard, as the fluctuating, forest fire-like heat of the Uchiha's Chakra closed in.

One sandal put on, now on to the next.

Just when he was about to snap the clasp on the other one shut, the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood on edge, as he could hear Madara round the corner with a snarl, feeling his furious glare immediately drill into his soaked back.

_No, no, no._

Immediate dread filled him.

_He had been so close to leaving._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter to date welp
> 
> Also this chapter murdered me. Never in my life have I whined so much while creating something for a hobby :>
> 
> I am not sure whether I have mentioned on here that originally this story was supposed to be a one-shot from _Tobirama’s_ POV. 
> 
> Yes, I know, I failed _b o t h_ of those aspects because I chickened out last minute on the latter and chose Madara (and later on Izuna) as POV character(s) instead because Tobirama, although my spirit animal, was somehow too hard to do for me.
> 
> But I did it. ;< Still can’t believe it. First time to ever write him.
> 
> And I am honestly terrified because I am hopelessly unsure whether I even remotely did Tobirama any justice. I heavily doubt it if I’m honest. However, I hope that this wasn’t too big of a dumpster fire! :<
> 
> Heads up: Tobirama’s thoughts are supposed to be all over the place because of his fever. Making him more prone to uncharacteristically drift off into territories he normally wouldn’t have drifted off to in this story.  
> (Not sure if it came across)
> 
> -
> 
> H u g e and heartfelt thank you to the lovely [sleepysensei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepysensei/pseuds/sleepysensei) for looking over this monstrosity of a chapter to edit typos and the like! I am eternally grateful! <3
> 
> -
> 
> Oh and in case you want to privately hit me up about any of my works or MadaTobi :>, please feel free to do so on [Tumblr](https://aurora-nuova.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/aurora_nuova)


	9. Can run, but can’t hide

* * *

#### Chapter 9: Can run, but can’t hide

* * *

  


Those senile, old geezers seriously loved to piss him off on a nearly daily basis, didn’t they? 

Whether that be on his way to work—on one of the rare occasions when he had to come in later because he had to deal with other Clan business before work first—or even on his way home as if lying in wait to ambush him out of nowhere. 

Which, admittedly, was fucking impressive, taking their rickety, ancient bones—that usually sounded like they would fracture after a cough—into consideration.

Obviously, Clan matters were his duty but there was a reason he had taken up Hikaku as his second helping hand in addition to Izuna—who had been his strategic right hand for years throughout the war already—when it had become clear that juggling the title of Clan Head with a freshly relocated Clan into a settlement alongside their once enemy all on his own while assisting brand new Konoha and its growth was just shy of too much to handle in a healthy and organized way without spreading himself too thin.

And Madara was anything but superficial with anything he did, pouring his passion into everything.

But his reputation as the God of Shinobi’s equal and passionate approach apparently tended to make some people think he wasn’t human or something. Sleep? No need. Rest? Pfffft. Honestly, he wasn’t sure whether he should feel flattered or insulted. 

So he simply just decided on _both._

However, some of his Clan members appeared to not be able to make the crucial connection between the importance of village work and Clan security, acting as if he neglected or even betrayed their Clan by working to make Konoha thrive. Which was such an idiotic concept that he sometimes wondered if those people even used their brains. 

_Seriously?_

How were their people to thrive if Konoha failed? After all, they were living in that same village. Thankfully though, the number of people starting to notice the importance of a stable village as a foundation for their improved living conditions was growing and some even tried to incorporate themselves amongst the other Clans with growing success. 

Those people truly were a blessing. 

He couldn’t say that about everyone, though, and especially not about the elder folk of the Uchiha, completely stuck in their beliefs that he was neglecting the Clan to play around with his childhood friend. 

Idiots, _all of them._

If it hadn’t been for their narrow-minded opposition, they could’ve made peace and started building the village much sooner, resulting in a lot fewer deaths in that useless war. Laughingly, not even the eldest of his Clan really knew anymore why it had started in the first place—not that they would admit that openly of course—instead making revenge the main reason to keep it going. 

Even now, they still held their ingrained beliefs of vengeance close to their hearts but thankfully damage control wasn’t too difficult as most of them were too old to do any fatal damage without him noticing. After all, anything had to pass him first before it could affect Konoha directly and so they either had to voice their concerns to Izuna and Hikaku or if they were brave enough, to him personally and pray for his support. 

But honestly, all that did was give him a headache or annoy him when he had better things to do. 

Like that one time, back at the beginning, when one of the senile bastards had dared to interrupt his work at the Tower—out of place, self-important air and everything included— but Madara had made sure that _none_ of them would _ever want_ to repeat that mistake. 

Of course, them being the ‘honourable elders’ of his Clan— _yeah right_ — he couldn’t just tell them to piss off with their delusions of grandeur, so instead he had made that visit the most agonizing thing ever and unsurprisingly they hadn’t wanted to repeat that yet. 

Scowling, Madara rubbed one of his dry, achy eyes with the heel of his hand. 

He fucking couldn’t even catch a short, little nap. 

_No, of course not._

Must’ve been a secret crime or something to not annoy him as soon as he was home, it seemed. 

Still fuming, the Uchiha finally stomped away from the room the elders with their old rickety bones had shambled away from not five minutes ago. The room still stank of corpse but with their visits being so frequent, he had anticipated it and ushered them into an otherwise unused room that he didn’t have to step into for at least the next few hours and so could air it out. 

If you asked him, those decrepit old farts and that dried up sea hag that had come to annoy him as per usual must have been so ancient already, there was no way they hadn’t been there back in the day to meet goddess Amaterasu-ōmikami in person to attempt to kiss her divine ass or something. 

At least that’s how self-important and outdated they acted— _and smelled._

He wrinkled his nose and sniffed as if to lose that phantom corpse smell.

Don’t get him wrong, if they would at least voice their opinions about legitimate issues to improve the quality of life for the Uchiha, he would immediately deal with those to the best of his abilities because he loved his Clan and being their leader just as much. 

But again, those old skin bags tended to have a complete aversion to change, an opinion about _everything_ , even if it was none of their damn business, loved to look down upon him because he apparently was too young and foolish in their eyes—oh let’s not forget his overindulgence in Izuna’s every wish apparently—and if he didn’t do things the old, outdated way, it was incorrect but more often then not even downright _unacceptable_.

There was a reason why ‘Please reconsider’ and ‘But Tajima-sama would have not done this’ were two of their absolute favourite phrases. But he wasn’t like his father and the old generation did not appreciate that in the slightest.

 _Getting rid of the child hunting squads?_ Preposterous.

 _Not disciplining children for bad behaviour by beating?_ How dare he.

 _Trying to make their Clan fit in with the others in Konoha?_ Impossible.

And most importantly, the bane of their very existence:

_That whole thing about the peace with the Senju in the first place?_

Oh, his severest ‘mistake’ of them all and without question, his decision would inevitably lead them to ruin and suffering. 

The actual reality that their whole Clan now had plenty of food even in winter, a guaranteed roof above their head and most importantly, protection, did not seem to count shit, though. Honestly, he was more then glad that the elders usually did not wander out of the compound to cause even more unnecessary problems, even if venturing outside might’ve helped with their worldview and attitude.

A derisive, humourless snort left his lips.

Oh, who was he kidding? Those old dogs would not learn any new tricks, not even under threat of death, they were just too cemented in their prehistoric ways. If it were up to them, they’d still be knee-deep in the war against the Senju, sending out children—who were not even old enough to write— into their certain death with weapons that were much too big for them in their tiny hands.

Appalled, he frowned.

Over his dead body.

Instead, his best choice of action probably would be to simply wait them out until those fossils inevitably would finally reach their expiration date.

Couldn’t be much longer, either, as most of them already had one foot in the cremation chamber, if you asked him. 

Though, who knew, maybe they would outlive even him. What with elder Tadashi who had caught that flu—a little before Madara himself had gotten sick with it—and had been so sickly that even Naori had assumed that he would croak but to all of their surprise, unfortunately, that feisty antique of a man had cheated the shinigami once again. It was his shtick to catch every illness possible like it was a damn competition and then to avoid death over and over again. Madara seriously wished that he had half as much luck as that old fart.

Finally, he rounded the corner just as he finished hastily tying up his wild mass of hair with a piece of leftover bandage—one that he couldn’t even remember putting in his pant pocket in the first place—into a rather messy ponytail. His hair had a life of its own, even brushed, and tended to break normal ties all the time so he had given up on that long ago and had learned to make do with what he had on hand. However, he had ninety-nine problems right now and keeping his mane looking tidy was not one of them, so he stomped into the kitchen to start up that stupid dinner he was supposed to have finished before his brat of a brother came home.

Grumbling, he ripped a pot out of a cabinet to wash and cook some rice in and swiftly shut the door with a bang. Scowling in annoyance, he filled the pot with water and filled it with rice next to smash the grains around in it to clean them.

Stilling his ministrations, he tried to scratch an itch on his cheek with his shoulder but gave up on it with a huff and wiped a hand off on his robe to use that instead.

Wait.

Well fuck, he had forgotten to wash his hands before starting dinner.

Eh, whatever.

Those ungrateful brats better kneel in gratefulness at his feet because he was making that damn food in the first place. He should’ve taken a shit beforehand and not washed his hands to teach them a lesson instead. Maybe he should put mushrooms in one of the dishes to fuck with Izuna, too. Not a bad idea, that would teach him.

Honestly, what was he? A fucking housewife? 

At least, it felt like he was playing the part of one, what with him standing in the kitchen after having been reprimanded like some lower-ranked woman by the elders. No, worse. They had treated him like some lowly housemaid—who had done wrong and had gotten charmed by the enemy—instead of like the most powerful Clan leader in Uchiha history that they rightfully should cower in fear of instead. 

But no, now he was here, playing house and preparing food for his spoiled brat of a younger brother and that stupid tag along parasite of his.

He absolutely should’ve made Izuna cook, well or better yet, if he didn’t want to die of food poisoning, make him buy dinner—as that brat somehow managed to burn water—for ignoring him the evening before and making him do all of this, not spend his precious time standing in the damn kitchen. 

It wasn’t as if his stack of office and Clan work for today was piling up or anything, right? Right.

Yeah no, instead of taking care of that he was playing nurse for that Senju Demon and even accidentally had partially protected his hide against the Uchiha fossils, meanwhile undeservingly catching their excessive ire. 

He should’ve just let those stupid elders eviscerate that idiot to let them feel good about themselves and maybe they would have left him alone for a few days. A scant few days without their constant yapping would have felt like a blessing.

And surely Izuna easily could have found a better friend in no time after some mandatory moping. After all, a stone was a better and more emotional companion than that icicle. He honestly was even shocked that they hadn’t broken their friendship off yet.

Speaking of that frosty bastard.

Oh, don’t even get him started on that topic. Actually, it was that icicle’s fault that his accidental nap had been interrupted in the first place. His eye bags were starting to get their own eye bags, it was horrible. And why had he needed that nap in the first place? Obviously, because he hadn’t been able to sleep thanks to that frosty annoyance the night before. Plus the old sacks of shit had come because of him being here, too. 

So yes, all of his current problems stemmed from having to endure that asshole.

He was mighty curious who had ratted them out, as Naori and Hikaku had been the only members of their Clan to know about the Senju bastard being here and neither of them remotely liked any of the elders. Apart from that, both of them were loyal to him first and foremost. So how? Had someone seen him carry the frosty ass? He seriously hoped not. His reputation would be ruined forever.

Speaking of the Senju, he probably should go and make sure that the sourpuss hadn’t bit the dust while he had been gone or something. After all, yesterday’s experience had taught him that even lying around and doing nothing apparently could result in another attempt to kick the bucket with the sole goal to fucking spite him. That bastard seemed to have an endless arsenal of ways to make him angry.

Covering the boiling rice pot with a lid, he left the kitchen in a flutter of his Uchiha robes, ponytail swinging behind him. He’d just take a quick look inside, maybe a closer one if he couldn’t discern if the other was still breathing or not and go back to continue with his meal preparation. A quick in and out. After all, the cretin had been sleeping all this time, _easy._

However, arriving in front of his study, Madara immediately stopped in his tracks and blanched when he slid the door to his study open.

_What the fucking hell?_

Frantically whipping his eyes around, as he stormed inside the room, only verified that he hadn’t seen wrong.

The room was _empty._

_No no no._

Where the hell was that frosty lunatic?! 

The icy bastard had been imitating a cooked ramen noodle—boiling to the touch and utterly limp—when the Uchiha had checked after he had been woken up by Hikaku to be informed that those senile bastards were demanding a séance with him this instant. 

Madara immediately rushed inside to rip the blankets off of the futon and when no prone form of a Senju albino greeted him, he hurriedly let himself fall onto all fours to uselessly look under the table. 

_No no no!_

Oh, Izuna, you little shit, this was getting to a point where inarizushi would not cut it as recompense anymore. _Not by far._ This was entering foot and back massages for two weeks territory, while he grovelled at his feet and rained a litany of praises on him and his greatness.

Kneeling and looking around the room still did not reveal any hiding Senju assholes.

Sensing him did not help either because, of course, that one time he actually needed to find that bastard, the other had such low Chakra reserves, he was impossible to make out as long as he wasn’t inside the same room.

He must’ve left the study.

“SENJU?!” he angrily bellowed to no effect, his voice only bouncing off the walls.

Already balling his hands into tight fists, he stilled when he had a sudden idea.

Maybe he had gone to the bathroom? Doubtful but worth a try.

Rushing out of the room as if a drunk, melodramatic Hashirama had been hot on his heels, he hurried through the house.

“Where are you, asshole?!”

There was no way the other hadn’t heard him. Was he doing this on purpose? 

_What a dick._

Arriving in front of the open room and uselessly leaning inside, proved just as fruitless, as it was empty.

 _Of course._ What a waste of his time.

Bristling he hurried back to his study in case they had missed each other—again very doubtful but whatever— only to suddenly realize that the Demon’s shit was gone.

 _Oh ho, no no._

Grinding his teeth, he stormed out of the room.

How dare that ungrateful parasite try to bolt?! Without telling him? He would tear that ungrateful piece of scum a new one for vanishing without even one utterance of thanks. After all the shit Madara went through in the span of the last twenty-four hours? 

He was forced to play housemaid in his own house—as the Clan Leader no less —and that ungrateful and disrespectful prick just wants to run?! _How dare he?_ This was downright disrespectful, he was the fucking Uchiha Clan Head for crying out loud and rightful owner of this house that the other selfishly had _imposed himself_ upon. Being a mere Senju Heir no less. He wasn’t buying that no one taught that idiot how to behave with his elders and betters.

Oh, he would hunt that bastard down, he thought, as he rushed to the front door, blood boiling. Even if he had to tear through half of Konoha to go and get him, he absolutely wou-

His thoughts immediately stopped, as turning the corner to the front door of the house revealed that he didn’t even have to go that far, as he suddenly was greeted by the drenched back of the albino, sitting on the genkan and fumbling with something.

The other was so dead.

“Are you out of your damn mind?” Madara barked and stomped his foot, making the albino flinch. Which, good! “What the fuck do you think are you even doing?” the Uchiha growled out, slowly approaching the menace.

But the damn bastard only further ignored him and continued fumbling with what looked like… his sandals, the Uchiha realized when he was close enough to get a view of the other’s feet. Unimportant.

There was no fucking way his conceited, frosty majesty hadn’t heard him all the times he had called him but especially just now. How dare he try to make such a fool out of him? Oh, Madara was _this_ close to just jump over and strangle that smug piece of shit into submission. 

“Are you deaf? Go back from where you came from and don’t even think I’m going to help you!” he snapped, jaw cracking with the force he was grinding his teeth with.

Nothing.

“Hello?! Stop putting those sandals on and stop fucking ignoring me, you ungrateful piece of shit! I’ll show you-“ 

Suddenly rattling coughs interrupted him. The older man knew the pale ass did that on purpose to mock him. Growling, he clenched his fists to not assault that unprotected back in fury.

“How dare you interrupt me?” More coughs; he grit his teeth and frowned. “Why am I even dealing with you? I am tired out of my mind because your annoying coughs kept me up all night and still I went to that stupid meeting this morning and substituted for you even though everything’s your damn fault!” he bellowed and stepped even closer.

“All the while you just luxuriated in our hospitality that you don’t even deserve. Eating the food I cooked, sleeping on the futon I bought with my own hard-earned money and even wearing my fucking favourite yukata. You should be grovelling at my feet, you ungrateful bastard!”

Wheezing, the pale man suddenly slowly turned his slumped upper body into Madara’s direction, so the Uchiha finally could see his face and damn did he look like utter shit, even worse than the day before. Sweat drenched hair flattened to his ashen but flushed face and head, lips cracked and bloody and dark bruises under his eyes, all the while the soaked yukata awkwardly clung to his skin in places all over his back and chest. 

The older man hesitated for a moment as he hadn’t been able to see much of the other today yet because the sick albino had been buried into all the blankets Izuna had dumped on him. The Senju honestly looked one step away from croaking. Well, shit.

But no, Madara tried to squelch the compassion that attempted to rear its ugly ass. _No._ That stupid idiot had insulted him with his behaviour. No need to pity him. He still should’ve known better!

“Who changed my clothes?” the sick man rasped out.

_Wha-!?_

“ _THAT_ is the only thing you care about?! Are you fucking serious?” Madara barked, feeling like he was frothing at the mouth like some deranged animal already. 

In a last attempt to constrain himself even a little bit to not immediately murder that complete dick, he instead slammed the palm of one of his hands against the wall with a loosely controlled temper to let off some steam without destroying his home. Either that wall or that bastard. After all, he didn’t want to cleanly punch a hole through the walls of his own home again, nor did he want to console a crying Hashirama or pouting Izuna.

But screw all of this.

When only silence met him and the asshole didn’t even deign to grant him a measly look, he couldn’t help but explode for real after all.

“You know what? If that’s all you have to say then go ahead and fucking leave! Just fuck off and do whatever, I should’ve left your sorry ass back at the office but no instead I let Izuna rope me into this ordeal and even did your stupid wor-“ he bellowed approaching but got interrupted by a sudden bang, as the front door crashed open.

“Stop whatever you’re doing!”

The Uchiha looked up in surprise, annoyed at being interrupted _again._ Damn it, was he surrounded by people who didn’t respect him anymore, who would dare to-

Wait.

That had been his Otouto’s voice.

And lo and behold, suddenly a very ruffled looking, huffing Izuna rushed inside the room and dropped a filled furoshiki on the floor with a soft _thump_ , closely followed by a tiny red fox, hopping over it to stop in front of the albino with a yip, its tails fanning out.

He scowled at both of the newcomers.

“I swear, I won’t doubt Mito-hime’s intuition nor Sensing ever again, shit man,” the younger Uchiha wheezed out, bending over to lean with his palms on his knees.

“What are you doing here so early and what the fuck do you mean?” Madara demanded utterly confused—leaning back, away from the Senju—as the brat wasn’t supposed to be home for quite a few more hours.

“Mito-hime,” Izuna huffed but his panting interrupted him, swallowing though, he continued. “She kept checking up on your Chakra over the day because Tobi’s is too low for that and she immediately sent me over when she felt how hostile yours felt.”

The eldest of the three shot his younger brother an irritated look. Sometimes he forgot that the redhead was a Sensor, too. Well, but who would’ve thought that she would be so nosy and impolite to stalk him like that? His eyes narrowed in slight upset.

“I told her that it probably was nothing but damn, I hate it when I’m wrong. Whatever, moving on. What are you two even doing?” the Uchiha Heir demanded, leaning up with a disappointed look at Madara, before shooting Tobirama a concerned one. “And why are you not in bed?”

Of course, the icicle didn’t deign it important enough to answer that, not even looking at any of them for that matter. But what else was new? However, his Otouto only sighed in exasperation and straightened while that stupid creature was testing his already _very_ tattered patience today with its stupid yipping and pawing.

“The fuck’s that?” Annoyed Madara nodded at said little thing resorting to licking the unresponsive Senju’s hand.

“Mito-hime’s fox summon. And I’d seriously watch myself because it’s going to tattle on you to her, on pretty much everything, I assume,” the younger Uchiha huffed out in bitter amusement. 

_What?_

That witch sent something to watch _him_ in _his own home?_

_How dare she?_

First the stalking, now that creature? Did she not trust him at all? He huffed in offence and crossed his arms. The Uchiha honestly had thought that she was holding him in higher regard than _that_. Looked like he had been wrong.

“And it’s going to call for a bigger summon as backup or Mito-hime herself if there should be any trouble, she told me,” his younger brother warned him with a sigh and wiped the sweat of his face off with his wide sleeve.

So was this supposed to be a threat now or what? 

Madara frowned.

When the fox’s gaze suddenly zeroed in on him, the little nuisance immediately hopped up onto the genkan to stand between the sick man and himself, arching its back with pulled back, unflattened ears and made a hissing noise as if to intimidate him.

“Is this a joke?” The Clan Head’s face darkened and he scoffed at it, unimpressed.

Ignoring his quip, Izuna sighed and looked at him, waiting.

“ _Helloo?_ ”

Madara peripherally could see his Otouto expectantly stare at them in turns but ignored him and instead continued to glare down that little pest with a sneer.

“Rude! Why is nobody answering _my questions_?” Izuna scowled and puffed his chest out. “Like for example, lemme think, huh. I don’t know, like my question what _this_ is all about?” he exclaimed, huffily waving his hand at them. “I’m still waiting!”

“I don’t know!” Madara answered him snappishly. “I was cooking and it’s all your fault if anything’s burnt, you will get the burnt rice you fuckers-”

“What do you mean, _you don’t know_?” the brat asked exasperated, completely ignoring the second half. “Something must’ve happened for Tobi to be like that!”

“Like what? Ice? A dick? Unresponsive stone? Not unusual if you ask me” the eldest grit out annoyed and turned away from them with a huff.

Izuna glared over the albino’s shoulder at him.

“Don’t be an ass!”

“I’m not!”

“Then tell me what happened!”

“Is everybody deaf today?! I’ve already told you!” Gritting his teeth, the Clan Head stomped his foot in irritation, making his high ponytail swing with the movement. “I don’t know!”

Izuna immediately squatted down, gripping the albino’s suddenly fumbling hands—that were trying to clasp his remaining sandal shut, Madara assumed—in his own.

“Tobi, what happened? Why are you trying to leave?” the brat asked looking at the Senju sitting on the genkan from below.

However, the albino still avoided the imploring look the younger Uchiha was sending him and instead tried to feebly shake off his little brother’s grip to no avail.

“Tobi?”

“I have burdened you enough,” he answered roughly but toneless, clearing his throat when his voice broke. Hearing the ice prince’s voice, the fox hopped back to his side to nose at his arm, tails moving.

Wait, what? Had Madara heard right? No, impossible. Was that dick finally admitting his ungratefulness? Madara sniffed haughtily.

“Of course, I will reimburse you for every-“ the sick albino quietly groused out with a hoarse throat.

“Wait, no no no! We talked about this. Absolutely no reimbursements for anything because we’re friends, remember?” Izuna interjected sighing.

“Then I will reimburse your broth-“ the Senju tried with a soft sigh of his own but started coughing his lungs out.

“What no, Tobi-“ his Otouto tried, gripping the albino’s shoulder but Madara interrupted him without any remorse.

“The fuck, Senju? So you aren’t brain dead after all?” he huffed with rising satisfaction, only to receive another glare from Izuna.

“Really? Was that really necessary, Aniki?” the brat said, shooting him a deadpan look that only made the eldest shrug smugly before looking back at the snowflake’s slumped back.

“My statement still stands, ignore what Nii-san said,” Izuna argued.

“Excuse y-“

“So, let’s say you go now. What will you do when you get home, Tobi?” Izuna talked over him with a huff.

“Rest. It’ll be fine, I-“ the Senju offered with a wheeze that Madara would’ve laughed at him for if he weren’t so mad.

“For what? Five minutes?” his little brother interjected with a scoff.

“No,” the Senju said, his voice rasping on the single word.

“Oh wow, so you’ll rest for ten minutes? Impressive,” the other Uchiha softly mocked him and sighed for the tenth time or so—what a dramatic brat. “We aren’t friends since yesterday, I know you a bit by now and you’ll just go home and won’t even really rest.”

“I will, I just told you, I’ll sleep-“

“You’re in no condition to go home on your own nor to take care of yourself like this, Tobi!”

“Izuna, it’s fine, I-“

“You can’t even wear the yukata right, you idiot!” Madara cut him off, making a grab for the gaping, dishevelled yukata collar to accentuate his point when the Senju suddenly flinched as if burned.

“ _Don’t touch me_!” the icy asshole suddenly hissed desperate, like a cornered animal, only to start hacking up his lungs, curling into himself as Izuna cradled him like some distressed baby.

The fox immediately snapped at the lower half of Madara’s robe, making him step back in reflex. Clenching his jaw, the Uchiha withdrew his outstretched hand.

“Whatever!” Madara snapped, hands balling into tight fists. “This is not my damn responsibility, screw you. _All of you_!” he barked with flared nostrils, whirling around—almost slapping the albino and his brother with his long ponytail—and stomped off into the direction of the kitchen.

Arriving there, he violently slid the door shut behind himself with a slam resounding loudly through the house.

Let them see how they’ll handle this on their own then. _Fuck all of them._ His stupid brother, that annoying little pest and most of all that ice-cold bastard.

See if he cares when the Senju Demon kicks the bucket because of dumb decisions. 

In fact, he didn’t give a fuck about any of this anymore, he thought seething as he paced through the kitchen, his blunt nails biting into his palms, as he pointedly ignored the smell of burnt rice wafting at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really struggled with this chapter and life additionally had a few lemons in store for me but thankfully I at least am finally done with this! Woohoo!
> 
> Elder Tadashi(只史)’s name means:  
> 只 = only, 史 = is history
> 
> Hope you liked this chapter 
> 
> -
> 
> A big thank you to copyninken (from Discord/tumblr) for being amazing and helping me come up with some of Madara’s behaviour when I wasn’t sure :>
> 
> -
> 
> Oh and in case you want to privately hit me up about any of my works or MadaTobi :>, please feel free to do so on [Tumblr](https://aurora-nuova.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/aurora_nuova)


	10. AN: I am clumsy, please take this offering

Hello dear readers of this story. 

I apologize for the delay of the next chapter but I fell down a long staircase and broke an arm. And while I still can type with one hand, I’d rather type a more humorous story for the next few days or so to lift my mood a bit.

I hope you understand and that I’ll be able to update soon-ish. 

I can offer you **[Rude Love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25519480/chapters/61915372), ** my current new baby, if you’d like to read another MadaTobi story by me in the meanwhile.

Please take care, everyone!


	11. Feel like I can’t breathe

* * *

#### Chapter 10: Feel like I can’t breathe 

* * *

  


Izuna couldn’t help but roll his eyes with a groan after he watched his sibling with that dumb, swinging— _really?_ —high ponytail of his round the corner and stomp off deeper into the house.

What an actual dickhead.

That had been completely unnecessary behaviour. No, unnecessary didn’t even remotely cut it. 

Well, there went all of his hopes that his older brother could act like a decent human being around the albino even if only in times of need.

“What crawled up his ass and died in there?” the Uchiha hissed under his breath with a scowl as his eyes lowered from the stretch of corridor his ass of a brother had vanished into, to look at the Senju and his unnaturally slouched posture. “Seriously…”

His mouth twisted in worry when he finally took in his best friend’s appearance, now that he had the time to as what felt like another crisis had just been averted. 

“Shit, you look even worse than you did this morning,” Izuna whispered to himself. 

And in fact, he did. 

The albino’s usually pale complexion was completely ashen except for the flush of the fever, eyes in a glassy and hazy stare into what appeared to be nothing. His atypically longer hair glued to his face, framing his strained and sweaty features. But worse were the constant wheezes escaping his bloody, dry lips that made the Uchiha’s own lungs ache in sympathy. 

“Come on, let’s get you back to bed,” Izuna offered after grimacing as his hand rubbed the albino’s trembling shoulder. „Are you cold?”

He shot the sick man another worried and confused look when his friend didn’t even react nor move. Mito’s fox summon shared his sentiment apparently because it squeezed itself under the Senju’s limp palm lying on the genkan and yipped at him as it tried to lift said limb with its comically tiny body to no avail.

“Tobirama?”

Finally, that resulted in a reaction, as the taller of the two startled and finally rasped out something that sounded like a hum before he tried to shakily stand up. 

Promptly the Senju’s legs gave out and Izuna awkwardly made a grab for the other’s midriff, as he still had been kneeling down below; the brunt of the force hitting him square in the face, cracking his neck painfully in the process. 

“Shit, gotcha,” the Uchiha grunted out after the Senju’s weight collided into him and he attempted to hold up the body to the best of his abilities. “Come on, I’ll help you back.”

However, Tobirama tried to weakly set himself free, his struggles setting off more body shaking, wet coughs until he was too exhausted to hold himself up any longer, slumping into him even more than before, if that was possible. 

Throughout that ordeal Izuna had tightened his grip with a helpless sigh through his nose and steadied his footing as to not fall over.

It was clear that the albino had other things in mind than to go back to the home he had woken up in but Izuna couldn’t let him, not like this.

“I need to go home,” the white haired male rasped out faintly amongst his unrelenting panting.

Izuna sighed more deeply, already feeling drained.

“I know and believe me, when I say that I only brought you here because I had no other choice,” he explained and grimaced in guilt at the almost kicked puppy look the other was sending him, most probably unbeknownst to himself. 

Unfortunately, Tobirama persisted and reinvigorated his fruitless struggles.

“I have to get back to work,” his friend demanded.

“That’s taken care of for now,” Izuna huffed out as the unbelieving Senju continued his tugging even more. “You worry too much.”

Unfortunately, it had no effect whatsoever.

The albino must’ve been seriously desperate. Normally the white haired male was much better at realistically assessing situations and whether it made sense to persist or not. After all, the taller man was pretty much known for striking only if he was sure of a successful outcome.

Izuna scowled.

“Stop it, you’re in no condition to go anywhere. Let me help you back inside—damn it—you can’t even stand on your own,” the Uchiha Heir grumbled out in exasperation, worry rising just as fast as his patience was running out.

Geez, could someone please remind him why he had befriended such a blockhead again? It was unfortunate but his family was already overflowing with that type of character trait and now he even chose such a person as his best friend as well. 

Well, it seemed like he would never learn, would he?

The Uchiha suppressed an agonized groan.

To be honest, he had never seen Tobirama in such a sick state and didn’t know how long he would protest. If he was unlucky, they’d be stuck here forever. He could be a real stubborn ass, after all, Izuna thought mostly annoyed. 

Maybe a teeny bit fondly, too. 

Nobody had to know, though.

When his friend’s almost hopeful and determined face fell as if reading his previous thoughts on the matter, Izuna knew he had won their blessedly short, little struggle. And usually, he would have been happy to have been victorious against the other male in anything but this time he just felt increasingly bad, guilty even.

Of course, he hadn’t anticipated for Madara to have acted as if he didn’t hate or even _liked_ the Senju. But this? He had hoped that his older brother would have kept it together because of the worrying severity of the albino’s illness at the very least.

But that little spectacle a few minutes ago hadn’t been much different than his usual behaviour at the office when Tobirama was actually feeling well enough to stand his ground. 

He heaved another sigh.

If this continued, he’d start to feel like one of the always sighing heroines in those romance novels Naori liked to read after she put Kagami to sleep.

Back on topic, though.

He was mighty disappointed in his ass of a Nii-san to put it mildly and he would’ve loved to stomp after him to give him an earful but leaving his best friend behind like that was not an option right now. Especially not when the other had attempted to flee. Which obviously had been stupid but if he were honest, he couldn’t even really fault him that much in the end. Who knew what had happened before Izuna came here.

Arranging their limbs and supporting Tobirama with an arm under his—the other would need a cleanup after this ordeal for sure—he turned them back around, only for the Senju to begin to wheeze and shake even worse, only moments away from another coughing fit by the sound of it.

“Seriously, how were you expecting to go home if you’re already this exhausted from that short walk from Aniki’s study to the entranceway?” the Uchiha exclaimed with an exasperated huff.

There was no snarky remark or anything, like there usually would be so Izuna turned his head to his companion with an inquiring grimace but only received a facial expression that could be interpreted as…embarrassment.

He smiled wryly.

A yip made him look back at the red, furry creature he had already forgotten about sitting next to a bundle of what appeared to be Tobirama’s things at the genkan. 

It had to be, judging by the blanket and fur collar.

“I don’t have any free hands for that,” Izuna explained with a huff, really hoping the creature did understand human speech and that the Uzumaki princess was not bullshitting him for amusement’s sake instead. “I’ll come back to get it after I made Tobi lie down.”

The fox didn’t move, nor did its determined look change.

“You can watch after it if you want or whatever but I have to get moving, he’s getting heavier by the second,” the Uchiha explained with a groan when he readjusted his grip below the albino’s arm before he started moving further inside, dragging the too warm and mostly limp body with him. 

Making progress was a very slow affair as Tobirama weighed more than him and the illness was robbing the other of his usual strength, making him more of a deadweight than much of any kind of help. Even matching their erratic steps was nigh impossible.

Fortunately, they didn’t stumble at least.

Advancing deeper into the house, the Uchiha threw the albino another worried look when he noticed that his ashen and strained face had lost all of its will to fight, as if resigned to his fate.

At times like this Izuna was glad he had become familiar enough with his stoic friend’s micro expressions or he wouldn’t have been able to notice it—just like back in the early stages of Konoha when Tobirama seemed to have only two facial expressions to him: unreadable cold or icy anger.

"Don’t worry, I’ll talk to Mito-hime to see if we can work something out but for now I need you to stay in my room where Nii-san won’t bother you,” he offered and would have laughed at the surprised wheeze—that sounded like a failed attempt at a scoff if he wasn’t mistaken—and comically unbelieving look he received from the usually reserved man.

“No, seriously, it’s a rule that goes both ways,” Izuna explained with an exasperated look as he leaned the mostly limp body on the wall of the corridor for a quick breather. “If I tell him to not enter my room, he doesn’t.”

That seemed to calm the exhausted Senju Heir a bit.

“I see,” the Senju rasped out in answer, the sound more akin to a rough breath than real speech.

Of course, he could’ve just put Tobirama in his room from the beginning and told Madara not to enter it but with how ill the albino was, he would’ve been too worried that something might have happened if he was left on his own. And yesterday’s happenings strengthened his belief that he had done the right thing, even when his brother had intervened late but it was exactly like the saying went: Better late than never.

“I apologize for causing yo—“

“Forget it, I’m not listening to any of that,” Izuna ruthlessly bulldozed over him. “You didn’t choose to get sick, so shut up.”

“Still,” the albino replied, voice strained by sickness.

“Nope,” he answered with fake cheerfulness, having absolutely none of that bullshit other people had ingrained into the Senju over the years. When said Senju stayed quiet, he continued. “Alright, if that’s all, let’s continue.” 

The Uchiha hefted Tobirama back up and what would have been a usually short trek to his own room continued in silence, only interrupted by the other’s wheezing and occasional rattling coughs, until they finally arrived in front of his blessed sliding door that he slid open with an ingrained foot movement.

“Welcome to my personal sanctuary,” the shorter man exclaimed jokingly out of relief that they had finally reached their destination as he helped Tobirama enter the room to sit on his futon. “And congratulations on receiving the rare right to borrow my bed.”

“Wait, I can’t—,” the red eyed Senju rasped out softly before he coughed as he was slowly lowered. “I’m sick and wouldn’t want to sully your bedding with—”

“Yes, you can and will,” the Uchiha huffed, ‘helping’ the other lower himself even more to finally lie down on the cushy futon. ”And don’t worry, I was about to change it either way.”

Happy with his work, he pulled the blanket up to Tobirama’s chin, making sure he was covered sufficiently. Which surprisingly wasn’t met with that much resistance—just another weak attempt at a tired pout.

But who could blame him? His bed was amazing and felt heavenly after a hard day of work or sickness.

“Alright, let me get your stuff and that little fox,” Izuna said with a hum, only to receive a sleepy blink from the shivering occupant of his futon.

Feeling like the albino wouldn’t attempt to flee again so soon, he stood up and left the room with a nod to get the bundle of things in the entranceway and a few blankets and pillows from his older brother’s study from the little nest he had made in the morning.

The little fox was waiting for him when he arrived at the genkan and he had to suppress a smile at how cute that little thing was. 

It’d be embarrassing as hell if anyone caught him coo at the small creature but he couldn’t help himself and at least gave it a few hearty pats when he crouched down to pick up the bundle of belongings, receiving a few content yips.

He smiled.

Maybe he should ask the Uzumaki princess whether he could sign a contract with her summons, too, he thought with an amused snort.

She probably wouldn’t let him, though.

Continuing his journey with a little companion following him to Madara’s office to pick up some bedding actually lifted his spirits a bit. Maybe they really needed to get a pet or something. Didn’t someone just recently tell him that they had gotten a cat and were much happier? Maybe they should adopt a stray or something to liven up their home.

A thought to come back to later.

Using the same foot as before to quietly slide open his door since his hands were occupied after their little detour to the study, he was surprised to see that Tobirama was still awake. Albeit eyes so heavy, he kept dozing off every few seconds only to stubbornly keep reopening them.

“Aren’t you tired?”

An obviously pretty redundant question since he had a set of eyes he was proud of in his head but with Tobirama he sometimes had to ask very obvious questions since he liked to ignore his own basic human needs. A lot.

Quiet tip taps sounded through the room as the little, fluffy summon quickly made its way over to the otherwise unmoving form on the futon with little jumps and curled up on the pillow next to his head with a little lick to the too warm albino’s cheek.

“I’m fine.”

Right.

He shot the other his most potent deadpan stare he could muster.

The Senju Heir’s version of ‘fine’ was one of the most disproportionate things Izuna had encountered in quite some time. 

He huffed exasperated. 

“I’m fine, huh? So, let me translate. You still have all of your limbs, so it can’t be that, nor can it be bleeding to death,” Izuna exclaimed, clicking his tongue and put a visibly exaggerated finger on his chin. “Starving or dying of thirst maybe? That should be in the realm of your definition of ‘fine’, right?”

Against all odds that actually got him a subtle reaction of interest instead of a glare for his mocking.

Trying to get any information about the albino’s needs was a straight up nightmare because he never wanted nor needed anything if asked even when Izuna knew that wasn’t necessarily the truth most of the time. So not having to fight the other on this for once was a pleasant surprise.

“What? Are you hungry or thirsty?” He asked hastily before the Senju Heir could change his mind on speaking up about his current needs.

Tobirama hesitated, a thoughtful scowl marring his sickly, flushed features.

“Out with it!” the Uchiha exclaimed loudly, slapping his thighs with his palms but stopped when the other grimaced in pain. “Ah, sorry.”

Izuna took a calming breath and tried to remind himself that he needed to be more patient because the other was feeling so unwell and thus was a bit slower than usual.

“Water?” Came the almost whispered question before a deep, ragged cough wracked the lithe frame below the blankets, leaving him wheezing helplessly.

The Uchiha scowled in sympathy.

“Sure, no problem.” 

At least finally this was going somewhere and thankfully the hacking eased, too, after a moment. 

He softly grabbed the limp, clammy arm the other had used to cover his mouth with and put it back under the blanket, receiving a grateful look.

“I’ll help you clean up after I talk to mister bitchy drama queen about the food situation and bring you some water, alright?” he offered amicably as he situated a blanket and the pillows he had brought on the occupied futon so his friend hopefully would be even more comfortable and warm. At least the fox seemed happier with its now even nicer resting place.

“Thank you.”

He nodded with a smile. “Sure.”

Good.

However, now came the part he wasn’t looking forward to. 

Accidentally burning himself on a new Katon Jutsu over and over was more fun than communicating with a huffy and puffy Madara of this scale. 

But the knowledge that Tobirama who never asked for things for his own benefit nor baser needs had actually asked for water was motivation enough to make his way over to the kitchen a bit faster than he normally would in such a situation.

Which, to be fair, was probably not at all. Avoiding his brother when he was in one of his moods was actually a safer strategy.

But ah well. Wasn’t he an amazing friend? Risking his head in the dragon’s den.

Izuna approached the closed kitchen door with a scowl already in place and slid the door open to quietly step inside the warm room where his brother was currently grilling some fish in a pan over an open fire. 

Quickly leaving the kitchen without too much of a fight was his number one priority. So the younger Uchiha bit his tongue to avoid letting his unhappiness with the other’s behaviour slip out as he ducked down to one of the cupboards to get a jug out he could fill with water.

Jug in hand, he turned around to Madara who was currently standing in front of the cupboard with the dish ware which of course included the cups as well.

Darn it.

“Can you move? I need a cup,” the younger of the two exclaimed in a mostly neutral tone—which, may he add, he was damn proud of because he would’ve loved to yell at his older brother but he was willing to show some constrain for Tobi’s sake.

Madara, though, ignored him, scowl of his own in place.

Really?

He suppressed a scoff and eye roll.

“Alright, I’ll bite. So what are you mad at me about this time?” Izuna demanded with a frown, letting a smidgen of annoyance bleed into his voice.

“Oh you want examples?” the taller Uchiha asked in a mocking tone with a humourless grin.

“Yeah, go ahead.” The younger squared his shoulders.

“You might want to apologize to me since you told me that taking care of him would not inconvenience me in the least. Though, I seem to remember someone almost dying by choking and _oh right!_ The idiot trying to hightail it out of here,” Madara growled with a sneer, angrily flipping the sizzling fish onto its other side.

“Are you kidding me?” Izuna exclaimed, anger bleeding into his words as he stomped his foot. “No, you might wanna apologize to _me_ instead since you broke an embarrassingly simple promise!”

“Huh?” The other’s eyebrow rose in confusion and his hands stilled before he slowly turned to look at him.

“I met Hikaku at the Tower today and asked him what had happened yesterday because after some rest, I realized that you seemed much too guilty,” Izuna exclaimed with an annoyed huff.

Madara frowned.

“And he told me how Tobi had been making noises but you had been reassuring Hikaku that it must’ve been his—I quote—‘weird cough or something stupid like that’. So it was actually your fault he almost choked, wasn’t it?” the younger Uchiha growled and pointed the jug at the other in accusation before he wrangled his way past the stunned Clan Head to get the cup he had wanted in the first place when Madara didn’t move.

“So yeah, you might actually want to apologize for breaking your promise instead,” Izuna added with a snarl of his own before he turned around to storm out of the room with a slam of the sliding shoji doors, leaving a stunned Madara behind.

Having gotten a few things to clean up his friend with and having filled the jug with water in the washing room, Izuna slowly opened the door to his room and peeked inside, only to be greeted by two inquiring sets of eyes.

“Come on! You’re still not sleeping?” 

Tobirama only blinked sleepily at him but his dull eyes slowly regained some shine as Izuna came inside and kneeled down next to him to pour water inside his cup.

Next the Uchiha propped up the albino against the wall behind his back, the multitude of pillows cushioning the hard surface more than sufficiently, before he held the cup to the cracked and bloody lips that opened up without any hesitation.

When the cool liquid touched the seemingly parched Senju’s mouth, the sick man quickly lifted a shaky hand in support and lifted the cup higher to turn the slow dribble of the fluid into big gulps with a hearty groan.

“So that is what it takes for you to ask for something?” the shorter man exclaimed in exasperation when the other emptied the content of the cup in a matter of seconds. 

“…More?” Came the panting inquiry, completely ignoring his quip.

Izuna snorted but filled up the cup as many times as needed until the sick man’s enthusiasm for the liquid ebbed and only then did he get a bowl of hot water and soap from the washing room to help clean up and dry his best friend before he helped him into one of his own slightly too short but clean and cozy sleeping yukata.

Which surprisingly worked without any real hiccups nor protests.

Weird but good.

He was finishing up changing the bedding and just about to make Tobirama lay his heavy, aching head down on the fluffy fur when he heard a knock on his door.

Rising to his feet with an inquiring hum, he slid the door open, only to stick his head out when no one was there, catching his brother’s back as he rounded the corner, vanishing into the house.

Looking down, he noticed a tray with dishes of food and tea with a scroll next to it.

After he put the tray and scroll on the low table in his room, he pushed it closer to his futon for better access.

“See?” Izuna tried to smile encouragingly as he helped Tobirama sit up against the pillows so he could help him eat. “I told you he wouldn’t enter without asking.”

The albino huffed tiredly as he tried to pull the heavy blankets higher.

“Let me,” the Uchiha mumbled as he tucked the shivering Senju in, all limbs covered by the warmth of the bedding as best as possible.

“I need my hands,” the other rasped out in protest and struggled to get them out.

“You don’t,” Izuna said with an amused smile. “You’re cold and sick, I’ll help you eat.”

He received a pout but no struggling.

Good, the albino seemed to begin to understand that he had no choice but to let Izuna help him while he was sick or they would needlessly butt their admittedly stubborn heads.

He just wished the albino would realize that being helped was not a bad thing but that would’ve been a bit too much, wouldn’t it?

Looking over all the dishes, he noticed that his brother had included a flat, little bowl for the fox that he promptly filled with a bit of fish from one of the plates he had uncovered to let them cool off a bit.

The little animal didn’t even hesitate and merrily started to dig into it as soon as the dish touched the floor.

Remembering the scroll, he picked it up to inspect it.

It looked like a normal summoning scroll and while he’d be much more cautious if he received it anywhere else by someone other than his brother, he wasn’t worried about this particular item. Madara was an overprotective mother hen and wouldn’t just hand him dangerous things without an explanation—even being angry—so Izuna unfurled it and let a bit of Chakra flow into the seals.

After the smoke cleared, he could make out an expensive looking, pale green piece of cloth with dainty white flowers stitched onto it.

Furrowing his brows in deep confusion, he unfolded it and held the cloth up to further inspect it.

“…a haori?” Izuna tilted his head in amused wonder. “Why would Nii-san give this to me? It’s not even my colour.”

Suddenly the tiny fox unfurled itself—having gone back to its resting place next to the sick man after it had finished its little meal—and approached the garment to sniff it before it yipped in joy. Shooting Tobirama an inquiring look, he could see recognition paint the albino’s exhausted features.

“It’s Aneue’s, I believe,” the Senju groused out softly.

Izuna huffed a laugh and his friend shot him a confused pout, brows furrowing.

“Who would’ve thought that your Uzumaki sister-in-law would be as overprotective as an Uchiha sibling,” he explained with a wry smile as he draped the piece of cloth around the shivering, pale man’s shoulders. “Making sure you have your favourite blanky and sun oil, sending her summon to protect you and now she even makes sure you’re not cold.”

Awww, was the other blushing? He grinned.

Tobirama avoided looking at him, fever flush still in place but his gradually reddening ears told the Uchiha all he needed to know. Deciding against further teasing the other this time, he watched the little ball of fluff tip tap back to the albino’s side until it vanished into a little opening the blankets had created when the Senju had sat up.

Next up he fed the sick man who still pouted a bit. Although, it went surprisingly well, even going so far that Izuna had been allowed to wipe the food off of the other’s face with a teasing smile without much additional protest. 

Luckily, the taller man had mellowed out a bit and had become slightly less resistant over time and more receiving of their friendship and all the things that it entailed.

Izuna still remembered his first, horribly failed attempts and how internally freaked out the other had been. Frankly, it had been funny to witness such a normally stoic man’s features twist with confusion and misplaced suspicion when he had done harmless things like bringing him snacks and not wanting anything in return. 

The other’s mind just hadn’t been able to get over it for the longest time. Which had been truly hilarious. 

When Tobirama seemed to have had his fill after very little food, Izuna let him rest against the pillows a bit and ate his own portion of the meal before he would help the Senju lie back down.

Just as he was about to finish his fish topped rice bowl, there was another knock on his door.

His brows furrowed. “Yes?”

Suddenly the door slid open and Naori stuck her head inside the room with a grin as loose, purple hair cascaded over her one visible shoulder.

”What crawled up your brother’s butt and died there this time, Izu?” the female inquired with a heartfelt grimace. “Oh, our patient’s awake, too, good.”

“Excellent question that I asked myself earlier, too,” Izuna huffed out with a snort as he put the dish of food in his hands on the table next to him and covered it to finish it later.

Naori entered the room, regaining her grin but didn’t slide the door shut.

“Sorry for the delay but we thought Hikaku’s wife was going into labour—again,” she exclaimed with a badly concealed snort.

“Oh?”

“Promise me this won’t leave the room,” she demanded as she looked at them with emphasis. “But let’s just say that she had been craving beans the day before instead and had struggled with a particularly horrible stomachache that fortunately got resolved when she blew off some steam.”

The admission ripped a sudden, hearty laugh out of him, Naori joining in. Even Tobirama couldn’t conceal a helpless and amused tug at the corner of his mouth.

Something by the door suddenly made a shuffling noise as she lowered two bags—one big and a much smaller one.

“Alright back to work.” The woman turned to Tobirama with a mindful, quiet clap. “Izuna very shortly mentioned that you are not too fond of healers.”

The younger Uchiha’s eyes widened as Tobirama blinked.

“Naori!”

“Don’t worry, I know next to nothing and I really don’t have to,” she explained ignoring their reactions, seemingly in a hurry. “I never told you about my occupation since it never came up but I am the Uchiha Clan’s main healer and I am probably right to assume that you won’t let me examine you now that you know, yes?” 

Tobirama mustered her with a reserved, slightly unsure look, amusement gone.

“Just as I thought but I have something that might soften your opinion on the matter.” The female Uchiha suddenly vanished outside of the room, only to re enter backwards, cradling something.

Izuna looked at her back with furrowed brows before she turned around.

Oh.

“I brought this little guy with me as a metaphorical olive branch,” the woman exclaimed with a tad of pride, holding up the little, curly haired Uchiha.

Tobirama’s eyes immediately went to her arms, warming at the sight of the child she was holding.

Kagami. 

Izuna smiled.

She was a smart cookie. 

The healer apparently knew that Tobirama was fully aware that having the boy here—with how much she cared about him—she wouldn’t want to scar him for life by doing something nefarious to the Senju, while additionally using the albino’s adoration for the little tyke.

“Izu-nii! Sensei!” Kagami immediately squealed in glee, flailing in her arms as his little face lit up in delight when his caretaker had turned around with him.

“Hey, what did we say?” Naori asked the little guy quickly but patiently as she turned him around to her so they were face to face. “Indoor—“

Eyes widening at his mistake, Kagami clamped his little hands over his mouth, curls bouncing on his head with the sudden movement, before he gently lifted them again to loudly whisper. “—voice when we visit sick people!”

“Good,” she said with an affectionate smile as she let him down on the tatami. “Go get your bag.”

However, as soon as his little feet touched the tatami mats, he sprinted over opposite of his little bag resting next to the healer’s. 

Suddenly the child abruptly stopped in front of the surprised, ill man on the futon as Naori had grabbed the back of the Uchiha’s little shirt and gently pulled him to her just in time.

“No, bug,” she stated as she turned him back around so he was facing her again with a heartbroken pout. “We don’t know what he has so we can’t risk you getting sick, no cuddling for today. We talked about this.” 

Kagami looked ready to cry as the shoji door to the room slid open to reveal Madara’s scowling face, begrudgingly not crossing the line of the sliding door’s imaginary line.

“Are you done?” he groused out, his scowl turning into a frown when his eyes landed on Kagami’s teary eyes.

Naori turned back around. “No, I haven’t finished explaining yet.”

Izuna furrowed his brows and glanced at them.

“Don’t worry, we have a pact,” she said, catching his eyes as she lovingly caressed the messy curls of the little Uchiha to calm him down. “Your brother has to behave well or he has to leave.”

“What no, he can’t—“

“Izu, I need to ask him a few questions since you weren’t here yesterday and Tobirama-kun was sleeping,” she explained, looking between the three of them with emphasis. 

Izuna scowled at his sibling.

“What do you get out of it?” It quickly dawned on him when he observed his brother frown at the albino and look concerned at Kagami. “Oh. It’s because you want to keep an eye on Kagami, isn’t it?”

“So what?” the tallest Uchiha snapped and crossed his arms.

Izuna frowned. 

As if Tobirama would ever hurt a child, much less his favourite one. Madara must’ve been blind or something to not notice their bond.

Suddenly Kagami whined in distress, unhappy at being ignored and most likely feeling the building tension but was quickly embraced by his caretaker who mustered them with a judging stare, just as the little fox unstuck itself from the multitude of much too heavy blankets for its little body to approach the healer and the child she was holding. Tobirama’s hazy eyes followed its every move.

“Let’s all calm down, okay?” Naori discretely nodded at the little boy in her arms in warning for them to get a grip as she subconsciously hoisted him up and closer to her, away from the fluffy creature. “Madara promised to only answer to questions but to keep quiet otherwise.”

Well, as much as he disliked it, she was right. Only his brother had the answers she needed about the Senju’s state from the day before.

“Fine,” Izuna sighed out as Madara entered the room and sat down at the table’s other side opposite of him with an angered huff.

The little tyke meanwhile appeared mesmerized by the tiny creature—and its multiple tails—which had approached him, watching it with apt interest.

“And what is a fox doing in here?” The female Uchiha inspected it confused.

“Don’t worry, it’s Mito-hime’s fox summon she sent to…uh…keep Tobi company,” Izuna offered with a grimace at his awkward wording. 

That wasn’t really its main purpose, though, was it?

He grimaced.

But telling her the truth meant that Kagami would overhear and he definitely didn’t feel up to the task of breaking the little boy’s heart when he found out that his beloved Mada-shishou and favourite Sensei hated each other’s guts.

Fortunately, the healer seemed to catch on and let it be.

“Is it safe, though?” Naori still watched it with suspicion colouring her face.

“Yes,” the albino rasped out before he attempted to clear his throat to no avail, spiralling back into one of his coughing fits. Everyone in the room except for his older brother—who weirdly enough looked downright constipated—winced at the wet, rattling coughs wrecking through the sick albino.

“Okay then,” she answered slowly when the hacking stopped, worry hesitantly leaving her features as she sat Kagami back down, having gone so far as to cradle him to her chest to protect him from the unknown, little creature. “I don’t know anything about fox etiquette but maybe let it first smell your hand before you touch it, bug. Okay?”

Kagami snuffled, prior distress not wholly forgotten but intrigued enough to put it aside long enough to quell his curiosity as he held out his little hand to the even tinier creature which cautiously sniffed it before giving it a lick.

The child squealed in delight, unknowingly making Tobirama grimace in pain.

“Alright,” the purple haired Uchiha huffed out with a soft and mindful laugh, eyes on the child and fox. “Don’t forget to be gentle."

Nodding his head so hard in his excitement his little curls bounced, the child scooted closer and caressed the animal’s head and back with almost comical caution.

“Soft!” the little Uchiha exclaimed in wonder, eyes glowing.

“I can imagine,” his caretaker exclaimed, a smile warming her voice as the little creature stretched before it licked the youngest Uchiha’s tiny hand a last time and wandered off to join the albino back on the futon. Meanwhile the little tyke looked after its retreating form sadly.

“Sweetie?” Kagami looked up at her, much calmer albeit pouting because he couldn’t join the fox and the Senju. “I know you wanted to cuddle and cheer your sensei up but I’m sure he would be really happy if you drew him a picture or two and you know, didn’t get sick.”

The young Uchiha sniffled sadly but considered it.

“What do you think?”

“Okay,” the little boy unfurled himself from her with a dramatically deep sigh and got his bag.

Judging that show of dramatics, the little brat would go far places if you asked Izuna.

Madara helped Kagami unpack a roll of paper and his pouch with lots of coloured pencils in silence before he let the boy sit on his lap so he could reach the table better.

Izuna knew that the albino had bought them from one of the newer merchant clans and gifted the pencils in question to Kagami for his birthday—much to Naori’s relief since they made much less of a mess than the ink she had to resort to for him in the past—and the curly haired boy had immediately taken to them, always bringing them in his little bag whenever someone was looking after him or when Naori took the little firecracker on her doctor visits.

“Great.” She smiled at the two of them before she grabbed a scroll of her own and one of those new wooden brushes that had a little container of ink inside from her bag and unfurled it. “Alright. So, Madara tell me what symptoms our patient suffered from yesterday.”

“Don’t even think about insulting him or you have to leave,” Izuna interjected with a warning scowl before his older brother could even open his mouth or think about it.

Madara scoffed, deeply unhappy by the look of it but keeping it together for Kagami’s sake.

“Alright, the symptoms please,” the female Uchiha emphasized with a huff, turning back to the man and the merrily drawing child on his lap.

“Fever, cough, loss of appetite, weird sleepiness and a lot of shivering,“ the Clan Head muttered out with a frown as he was organizing Kagami’s pencils that were strewn over the table in a neat row. “That and feeling weak or something, I guess, since he collapsed right in front of me and was a deadweight after that.”

Tobirama looked confused, cogs in his head already turning, well probably. Even knowing his friend better he wasn’t completely sure what the other was thinking about most of the time if he chose to put on his expressionless mask.

But what he did know was that the poor guy didn’t like to not be aware of things he did. The Uchiha would even go as far as to proclaim his friend the biggest control freak to ever control freak. Heck, he was even worse than Madara, whom he had thought to be the worst until he met the albino and saw him work. 

In his peripheral Naori nodded as she wrote something down.

“Thanks. Alright, may I ask you a few questions about how you feel now, Tobirama-kun?” After making sure that the little rascal was busy and Madara moderately appeased with being able to ‘protect’ him, she turned back to Izuna and his best friend. “I promise, I won’t come any closer if you don’t want me to.”

Madara’s ensuing scoff was left pointedly ignored.

“Yes.” 

“So did you get sick over a longer period of time or was it sudden?”

“The latter,” the albino exclaimed, voice breaking on a painfully sounding cough. 

“And you very obviously still have a bad, wet cough,” Naori observed with a light furrow of her brows.

“Yes,” he agreed mildly, voice rasping before he delicately licked his cracked lips in vain.

The albino continued answering the healer’s questions shortly but efficiently, meanwhile his cough got worse and worse, interrupting him until Naori sighed.

“You should rest your vocal chords,” she said with a slight huff. “I assure you, nodding will be enough.”

“I cannot.”

Izuna and Naori furrowed their brows.

“I don’t seem to understand,” the female Uchiha said slowly.

Neither did Izuna if he was honest.

“I cannot, physically,” the Senju rasped out.

Naori hummed in thought. “Lower your chin to you chest?”

“Yes.” The albino hummed back unfazed and coughed softly.

Her eyes widened as she seemed to have an idea.

Turning back around to Madara and Kagami, she took a look at the boy’s drawing that he was still working on. “Kagami?”

The little Uchiha looked up in question, halting his colouring of what appeared to be him and Tobirama. At least judging by the colourless, spiky hair the taller figure had and the messy swirl of lines on the top of the head of the smaller one.

“Do you want a snack, sweetie?” She smiled at him. “You’ve been such a good boy today, I think you deserve something sweet.”

The boy in question beamed at her and nodded enthusiastically.

“I’m sure Mada-shishou has something he can give you in the kitchen,” she suggested with emphasis in her voice.

The Uchiha Clan Head shot her a look but didn’t question her any further. After all, Naori usually didn’t do things without a reason.

Picking up the youngest Uchiha after he put his coloured pencil down, Madara and the boy left the room in search for a sweet treat.

“Okay, let’s quickly test something before they’re back,” she said.

“Do you always do that?” Izuna asked and elaborated when she shot him an inquiring look. “Send him to get sweets with someone when he isn’t supposed to see something?”

“Oh yes, as long as he was good, if not I send him off to do other things, though, this time it was because of Madara.”

Huh?

“There’s something I want you to check and I wouldn’t want to be examined like that in front of someone who’s hostile to me either.” She smiled at them In understanding.

“Oh okay.” Izuna hummed intrigued. “What is it then?”

“Can you lie him flat on his back?” She leaned back on the hunches of her feet.

“Sure,” he answered and uncovered Tobirama so he could lie down on the futon. “Now what?”

“Place a hand behind his head and another on his chest,” she explained, nodding when he got the positioning right. “We don’t want him rising by accident.” 

He hummed confused.

“Now—very softly—lift his head, so his chin nears his chest.”

Izuna scowled but hesitantly did as he was told. Suddenly the albino’s knees rose.

Curious.

“Okay good, stop.” Belying her words, the tone of her voice didn’t sound happy. “Was that an involuntary reaction, Tobirama-kun?”

“Yes,” the Senju rasped out in pain as Izuna slowly lowered his head back to the futon.

“I assume your eyes are more sensitive to sunlight than the average person’s,” Naori said in thought before the albino agreed. “Are they even more sensitive since you got sick?”

Tobirama looked at her thoughtfully. “They are.” 

“Alright. Izuna, now raise one of his legs—like this, yes—and now we need his leg to be ninety degrees to his torso and the bend of his knee as well.” She nodded when he accomplished what she had wanted. “Lastly, start extending his knee joint.”

“Wait, what, I’m confused,” Izuna hurriedly said and looked at the albino’s lifted leg. “How do you want me to do that?”

“Just raise his lower leg until it’s either straight or I’ll tell you to stop,” Naori explained with an amused smile.

He shared a confused look with his friend before he did as he had been told. Albeit very slowly to not cause Tobirama any unwanted, sudden pain.

“Ok, stop,” she suddenly ordered him when the albino gasped in pain. “You can tuck him back in.”

“Just like that?” Izuna furrowed his eyebrows and shot her a mighty confused look. 

Nothing made sense.

“Yes, I think I know what he has but let me recheck his symptoms to make sure.”

Izuna shot her a concerned look she didn’t catch because she started scribbling on her scroll.

He had never heard of anything with those symptoms. 

Shortly after the Uchiha Heir covered his friend with the multitude of blankets, Madara reentered the room with Kagami who was happily munching on his last piece of mochi, little hands covered in white powder.

“Madara, can you please cover Kagami’s ears?” The boy in question pouted at her—his full cheeks of mochi comically turning down—as the man in question sat back down with him. “It’s for adult ears only, pumpkin.”

Having wiped off his hands and made sure the little tyke couldn’t hear anything the Uchiha Head nodded at her. 

“I figured out what he has,” she declared, rummaging through her bag. “His symptoms align with the bout of flu that has been going around our neighbourhood.”

Izuna hummed In thought. “And why did you need me to—“

“Because a stiff neck can have a lot of different meanings,” she explained and made a victorious noise when she found something in her medical bag. 

“Isn’t a stiff neck just that? _A stiff neck_ ,” Madara grumped out with disdain in his voice.

“It can be but seeing how his eyes are even more photosensitive and he was positive for the physical tests Izuna helped me with, I’m pretty sure he got himself an additional meningitis.”

“A what now?”

“It’s an inflammation of the protective membranes of—,” Naori started but stopped with a stifled laugh when she saw the confused faces of her two cousins. “Well, it’s an inflammation that results in neck stiffness for protection. Better?”

“So his neck is stiff to protect itself?” Izuna repeated slowly, unsure whether he got it right.

“Yes, do you want me to explain?” Naori grinned, fully knowing the answer already and just toying with him.

“Do I need to understand it to help treat it?” Izuna furrowed his brows, lightly embarrassed at his lack of knowledge.

“No, not really,” she hummed amused. “Just listen well to what I have to say next and you should be fine.”

The Uchiha Heir nodded slowly.

“So, as I have already mentioned, it looks like he caught himself the flu a lot of our Clan have been sick with,” she said looking at him and Tobirama.

“Sometimes that can come with an inflammation of the membranes even though it’s more typical for children and the elderly but seeing how Tobirama-kun has a special condition, it’s not too surprising he was unlucky to get it, too,” she explained. “I’ll mix him a less aggressive version of the flu medication I have been prescribing our Clan members.”

“And what about that other illness?” Izuna looked at her confused.

“There’s not really a medicine for the variation he’s suffering from so we rather tend to the underlying Illness it stemmed from instead and the meningitis should get better that way as well.”

Weird.

“And how do you know which variation he has contracted?” he asked her.

“Well, let’s just say that if he was sick with the other currently known one, he’d be very delirious but most likely would’ve already keeled from it.” The corner of her mouth dropped. “Since it’s a very fast working one.”

“So wh—“

“Just keep an eye on him and if he gets worse fast, immediately come and get me.”

Izuna hummed concerned.

“But as I mentioned, it’s unlikely and he should be fine as long as he takes his medicine and gets lots of fluids and bedrest,” she said and gave Tobirama a look of emphasis when she reached the latter part of her sentence before she turned to her medicine bag. “You can uncover his ears, Madara.”

The Uchiha Clan Head huffed and freed Kagami from his big, warm hands only for the little boy to go back to his drawing with a pout as Naori mixed a few powders together before she put the little paper envelopes holding them into two, separate wooden boxes.

“He needs to take this in the morning and evening with a small meal,” she exclaimed and pointed at one of the wooden containers. “However, give him the fever reducer only if needed.”

“Alright, anything else?” Izuna leaned forward.

“I’ll also leave you some more of the herbal ointment that you can rub on his chest to make his breathing easier.” She turned back to Tobirama. “You should go back to sleep after you had some food and a dose of the medicine.” 

The albino made garbled hum.

Kagami whined already sensing what would come next when Naori leaned over to put a hand on his head.

“Are you done with your drawings? We need to say goodbye for now, your sensei needs to rest.”

“I can take a nap with him,” Kagami protested.

Naori laughed. “No, you can’t, you’re way too high strung to fall asleep right now and he’s plenty tired already but we’ll come back to check up on him tomorrow.”

Kagami whined with a pout, eyes getting glassy.

“Pack up your drawing utensils, we have to make a visit to granny next, you little fire cracker,” she said kindly as she started to pick up her own things.

When the little boy didn’t move, she huffed. “Do you really want to keep your poor sick, sensei from getting better?”

That seemed to work as as the little boy started to grab his coloured pencils in an oddly adorable mix of alarm and reluctance with Madara’s help.

Izuna smiled and shot Tobirama an amused look he returned, albeit a bit more reserved.

Kagami began stuffing his things into his miniature medicine bag but stopped in thought.

“Okay, as I said. Medicine, lots of fluids and rest.” Naori repeated, picking up her bag to put it over her shoulder in one routine movement before she looked over at her little companion who approached Izuna with a little toy.

“What is it?” He looked at the little boy standing in front of him.

Kagami shyly mumbled something.

“What?” Izuna leaned forward. “Can you repeat that?”

“I want to lend 'sukuyomi to sensei,” the little boy said a bit louder and played around with a plush cat’s leg. “So he can protect him.”

Izuna badly stifled a laugh at the notion of a toy protecting one of the most vicious and strongest Shinobi while Madara scowled in disgust. Probably disliking the idea that Kagami wanted to give anything to the albino.

“Are you sure, sweetie? You’ll have to be without Tsukuyomi for the remainder of the time until we come back tomorrow,” Naori reminded the little boy, an amused smile of her own threatening to spill onto her face. “We can’t come back before that even if you change your mind because your sensei needs his rest.”

The little Uchiha hesitated for a moment but nodded his head in determination and held out the toy cat to Izuna who accepted it with a smile.

A day might not be long for them because adults had a different perspective on the passage of time but a day could feel like an eternity to little children like Kagami.

The Uchiha Heir patted the boy’s head of curls before he handed the toy to Tobirama.

“Thank you,” the albino said with a twitch of his mouth.

Kagami beamed.

“Alright, come and get me if any of his symptoms get worse or new ones make an appearance. See you tomorrow.” As soon as the words left her smiling lips, she picked up a pouting Kagami and his bag into her arms and turned around with a farewell nod.

“Walk us out, will you?” The healer looked at Madara who begrudgingly got up with an annoyed tilt to his mouth and they left the room in a hush of voices as the door to his room slid shut.

Izuna hummed and made to search for some paper he could use to write a message to Mito-hime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, thank you so much to everyone who wished me well and waited for this story to continue!
> 
> After breaking my arm, going to physical therapy for recovery and then having been so sick for a month, I had to go to the hospital, I am _finally_ feeling much better and am back with a new chapter. 
> 
> Hopefully my bad luck has run out for a bit and I can go back to my usual posting schedule because I seriously missed writing for this story and interacting with you guys.
> 
> But for now I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that my writing didn’t go down the gutter after all of this time. It does feel a bit rough RIP
> 
> Next will be a Madara POV chapter.
> 
> -
> 
> And of course as usual in case you want to privately hit me up about any of my works or MadaTobi :>, please feel free to do so on [Tumblr](https://aurora-nuova.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/aurora_nuova)


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